Wasteland
by UNcharacteristics
Summary: Kakashi has been framed for treason, which marks the beginning of a perilous journey and the loss of his sanity.
1. Part 1: Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto or anything related. Kishimoto does.

I intend for this particular story to be darker than my others. And, while the plotline isn't set in stone just yet, it's probably going to have an unhappy ending. The main pairing is Pein and Kakashi, but it's going to be awhile before that happens. Forewarning.

It is rated M for: sexual content, yaoi, violence, slavery, rape, abuse, disturbing themes, allusion to pedophilia, language, whatever else is bad that I have forgotten and might throw into the story later.

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><p>As I sit here chained, humbled, and at your mercy, I realize you probably look down upon me as a traitor and a criminal. Murderer. Monster. And maybe I am. Maybe I deserve to be looked down upon. I know nothing I say will absolve me of my crimes. For they are many. And they are truly bloody. But, please, before you judge me, I want to tell you how I came to be the one who caused so much misery. Who ended so many innocent lives … and my own village, Konoha.<p>

...

**Part 1: Victim Ensnared**

It was Springtime. I remember it well. I can still smell the sweet, morning dew on the freshly cut grass on the outskirts of Konoha and how the moon cast a soft glow across the village. I was returning from a mission in the Village Hidden in the Mist, the details of which I must keep to myself. Old habits die hard, I'm afraid. Upon seeing the village, I felt comforted. I always did after a long mission. There was a sense of satisfaction from completing my work - whether it be to gloat to my friends or to be praised by my superiors - and relief that I had survived it. But this time was different.

I was rushing through the cool night air, wanting to get to my apartment before dawn broke. I had made the mistake of taking the long road home right after completing the mission, and my exhausted body was paying the price. Plus, I had to feed my goldfish. Gai, my old friend, bought it for me as a gift while I was bed-ridden and injured. He said something about helping me relax and keeping my youthfulness. It was foolish, and it never made me feel youthful or anything like that. But, I must admit, it did give me something to keep my mind on. Whenever I was on the brink of death, thinking I couldn't possibly lift my arm, let alone throw another punch, I'd remind myself that there was something that depended on me, depended on my survival. I had to feed my fish.

I turned another corner in yet another dark alleyway. Then, as I rushed, I barely heard the light tapping of foot steps and hushed whispers just around the corner. In a heartbeat, I realized they were coming my way. And in the blink of an eye, I was out of sight. Had I been on vacation prior to the incident, I would've walked on by, and all of this probably wouldn't have happened. But I still had that post-mission paranoia, and instinct was taking over. So there I hid, spying on my own comrades.

There were six shinobi. They walked slowly and spoke in whispers. I could tell from the way they moved that they were on alert, and from their clothes I knew them to be ANBU. But I didn't recognize any of them. And then, out of the shadows, appeared Danzo, one of the village elders. He was a clandestine individual, or so I had heard. Lady Tsunade didn't trust him, anyway. And, considering his current location and company … well, that was enough reason for me to wait in the dark and see what was to made of this meeting.

The group stopped for a moment. They were closer to my hiding place, a second floor balcony, but I still couldn't make out the conversation. Danzo had his back turned to me, and the others were merely nodding in agreement. They laughed, and Danzo turned again, walking further toward Konoha's main gate. He must've been leaving. As he passed under me, I heard him say to one of the ANBU, "She'll be gone by the end of the-"

I quickly and quietly leaned over the railing to hear the last word. I was taking a huge risk, but I needed to know. Who was "she"? End of what? But he said no more. I considered following him. I couldn't go to Tsunade-sama with this little information. But I couldn't sit on it either.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the white porcelain mask glancing in my direction, and my heart sank. I slid back into the cover of the balcony, but I knew it was too late. I listened for footsteps on the roof above me, for clanking of weapons, for anything. But all I heard was the soft, rhythmic tapping of their walking below me. I waited for a few seconds. Waited for them to pass me by. And then I peaked over the railing again, trying to stay in the shadows. They were still walking, calmly. But there were only four of them. And then there was a soft breath whispering in my ear. "Hello, beautiful."

I kicked behind me, but he already had his arms crossed in front of him to block my attack. He raised his hand and wagged his finger at me, "no". He was _toying_ with me. And he was so _quick_. I was an ANBU captain for three years. I still had many friends in ANBU. This man, whoever he was, was not ANBU. I even thought for a moment that he was from another village entirely. That they all were.

It was no use trying to fight in the balcony. There was barely room to stand. I jumped to the street below, knowing full well how dangerous that would be. The rest had surrounded me before I even hit the ground. All but Danzo, who was nowhere to be seen. It was myself, exhausted, surrounded by five ANBU who were not ANBU. I threw three kunai from my left hand, only to distract them from the smoke bomb I dropped with my right.

I then escaped up the side of the building and over the rooftops. But there was someone already up there. She must have anticipated this and was waiting for me. She threw a roundhouse kick and, as I ducked, swung a garrote around my neck. I sent a chakra-infused fist flying into her stomach, throwing the chain to the ground. She slid away from me, but didn't seem too upset about it. When I looked up, I realized why. Two others had caught up to me, both throwing shuriken in my direction. I barely managed to block them with my last remaining kunai, only to see another not ANBU appear on the roof.

He laughed, a joyless chuckle, and I recognized him to be the man who addressed me on the balcony. He had my kunai wedged in his arm. Without hesitation, he pulled it out, the cold medal easily sliding across blood and skin, and twirled it around his middle finger. It made me cringe. "You have nowhere to go."

I already knew that. I was surrounded, again, by four. And I figured the other two were already waiting at possible exits in case I tried to run again. I could either surrender or take down as many of them as I could. Being a proud sort, I chose the latter and raised my kunai in a defensive position.

It all happened in a flash. I never completely took my eyes off that man, even while his comrades ambushed me. As I blocked a side kick from the one on my left and ducked a kunai being swung at my throat, I saw him aim the kunai. The man to my left caught me off guard and planted his foot in my stomach. I braced myself for the hit, which distracted me just long enough for the leader to find an opening in my temple. I didn't see him throw the kunai, but I felt it embed itself in my forehead seconds before my lightening clone exploded, killing whoever was on that roof.

I breathed heavily, my real self still hidden behind a counter in a small café. I had to escape. That lightening clone was pushing my limits. I knew, even though there were only two, maybe three left, that I wouldn't be able to hold them off for long. There was still smoke in the streets from that bomb. I would have some cover there.

I hopped over the counter and moved toward the door, only to have it kicked in toward me. I barely dodged it, then prepared for the onslaught of shuriken or kunai or whatever else he wanted to throw at me.

"There you are," he said, sounding entertained by my attempts to survive.

I lifted my hitai-ate and pulled out a kunai. "You were a shadow clone."

He nodded, leaning casually against the counter as if talking to an old pal. "Pretty eye," he said.

"All the better to see you with, my dear," I retorted.

He laughed a bit. "That's funny. You're funny. Strange, I'd heard you lacked sense of humor."

"You know who I am?" I asked.

"Of course, Kakashi-san."

"But I don't know you."

"For the best." He paused for a moment, twirling a kunai around his finger again. "Lightening clone. Impressive. I wouldn't expect anything less from the infamous Copy Nin," he mused.

"You knew it was a lightening clone."

He nodded. "I had suspected. You were fast, too, with the substitution. It took me awhile to find where you were really hiding."

My calm, calculated demeanor was betrayed for a brief moment by a look of disgust. "You killed your own teammates."

"Only the unimportant ones." He nodded toward the back room. I didn't look, but I could hear the footsteps of someone running and then landing as the intruder slipped in through the window. From the sound of the footsteps and the smell, I knew that it was the woman. She must have escaped the rooftop while my lightening clone was being killed.

She came up behind me with a katana and swung downward into my shoulder just as he threw three shuriken to my sides and above me so I couldn't dodge. I used a substitution jutsu, appearing behind him, but he already had a kunai at my throat. I grabbed his wrist and kicked him in the chest. He crashed, ungracefully, into the wall. I let white-blue lightening chakra build in my hand and charged toward him. I was only inches from his face. I was so close. But my arm veered into the wall next to him as I felt the woman's foot being driven into my side.

He quickly grabbed for his mask which was knocked off by the chidori, but not before I could see his hazel eye and an X-shaped scar just above it. He grabbed a pen off the counter and threw it at my chest. I tried to dodge it, but the damn thing buried itself in my shoulder while I was ducking swings from the woman. If not for my sharingan, it would've hit my heart.

"Enough!"

We all looked for the source of the interruption. Danzo. He and the two other not ANBU members were now standing in the café with us. The two covered the exits, and my would be murderers took a few steps back from me.

"I said I wanted him alive," he said, addressing the hazel eyed man. "Do you ever follow orders?"

He laughed. "That costs extra."

Danzo scowled, but didn't press the matter. He instead turned to me. "Kakashi, in the past few minutes, you have become a great inconvenience to me."

"How's that?" I asked.

Danzo grinned. "The appropriate question here would be 'how are we going to remedy this?'"

"I don't suppose you'll let me walk out of here."

"You suppose correctly."

Suddenly I felt that woman behind me. She had something in her hand, and it was about to go into my neck. The needle had only kissed my flesh before I grabbed her wrist and threw her and it into Mr. Hazel Eyes. The two not ANBU members flanked me. I threw one into a wall with a fist to his chest. The other grabbed for my neck, but I drilled a chidori into his rib cage. He didn't survive. I turned my attention to Danzo and let chidori build in my hand again.

I braced for attack. Danzo took a step back, eyes going wide. I finally had the upper hand. I was almost hopeful. It was in vain. Out of nowhere, a needle flew through the air and landed in my chest. I grabbed the syringe and tried to pull it out. But I was too slow. The hazel eyed man kicked a metal napkin dispenser at me and it hit the plunger of the syringe, pushing the drugs into me. Everything slowed down. It grew darker. And it became so quiet. I fell to my knees. I looked up toward the hazel eyed man, and, although I was barely conscious, I knew he was laughing.

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><p>The "hazel eyed man" is an original character, but his personality and extra-special skill is based on a Marvel comic book character.<p>

Review, please.


	2. Chapter 2

I'm not sure about this chapter. Please tell me what you think.

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><p><em>Ka … shi<em>

_Kakashi_

"Kakashi!"

Freezing cold water jolted me awake. I coughed and gasped for breath, trying to pull myself out of this daze. "Where am I?" I asked of no one in particular.

"You know where you are, Kakashi," came the somber reply from a voice that could only belong to Morino Ibiki.

"Ibiki..." He didn't respond. Hell, he didn't even move, and I wondered if I had actually said anything at all. I looked around the room, which I immediately recognized as the "interrogation room". It was dark, so dark that I could only see an outline of the man in front of me. I felt so horribly weak. I was dizzy, and my head hurt. I felt something heavy around my neck. I had a sudden urge to rip it from me, but my bound hands were useless. My breath was short and choppy. The air was thick with tension and the smell of sulfur. A bead of sweat rolled down my naked torso all the way to the hem of my pants. And yet Ibiki stood, like a bad omen in a black trench coat, completely oblivious to the heat or the smell or the fear. It wasn't natural. _They're just fucking with my head._

"Don't bother trying to use an escape jutsu. That collar around your neck is absorbing your chakra." Ibiki reached upward toward something in the dark room. I heard the click of a switch. And then pain seared through my head as a bright light flooded the room and blinded me. It took me a few seconds to adjust to the light, and still, I could hardly see. I closed my eyes. Both of them, as I noticed my hitai-ate was gone.

"That isn't heaven," my captor stated.

"What's going on," I asked, a sincere question. My memory was hazy at best, which I attributed to the drugs.

"It isn't often I get the pleasure of interrogating a Konoha nin," Ibiki started, standing coolly with his hands in his pockets, no hint of any emotion whatever. "You know me well, Kakashi. And I, you. So you know it would be best for you to cooperate."

"What's going on?" I repeated, this time with more force.

"You've been accused of treason."

_Treason? _I let the word sink into my mind. I waited for my drug-addled brain to make sense of it. To realize the gravity of its meaning. But I felt so numb. And this place felt so surreal. Surely these drugs must have affected my hearing, I reasoned. Or maybe I was still unconscious and this was a nightmare.

"How much do you remember?" he asked.

I thought back, although I was somewhat afraid to know the truth at the time. I remembered walking home. The smell of grass. The dew on my toes. I wanted to get home. A sharp pain shot through the back of my eyes.

"My head hurts," I said, hanging my head, my eyes clenching shut to block out the light.

"It's the drugs. And you know that. Stop stalling and start remembering," Ibiki commanded.

Ibiki. _Sadist_... I sighed, pausing to think back again.

"Talk it out."

I grimaced. It was like his voice was a hammer pounding on my skull. "I was on my way back from a mission..."

"You came back early."

I nodded.

"Why?"

I shrugged. "Why not?" He drove his open hand into my cheek, throwing my head to the side. I tasted rust in my mouth, wet and thick. I spit the blood out, and it dribbled down my chin.

"Don't get cute with me, Hatake."

"I wanted to get home. That's all."

"Bullshit."

I scoffed, turning my head away from his cold gaze. He grabbed my chin in his iron grasp and forced me to face him. His eyes were hard and cold, narrowing as they looked upon my own. He leaned in, now only inches from me. And his mouth pulled into a sadist's smirk. "You were planning on showing up at Konoha's gates earlier than expected. Weren't you?"

I sneered. "Yeah. To get home."

"No, Kakashi," he said, shaking my head from side to side with his hand still clutching my chin. "You wanted to be back in time to meet Danzo."

"No."

"You were planning on killing him. Isn't that right?"

"No. I di-"

"And you were going to use your mission as an alibi, stating that you weren't yet in Konoha."

"No!" I paused for a moment, waiting for him to continue, but he didn't. "H... How would I even know when Danzo was leaving?"

He smirked again and rolled his eyes. "It wasn't exactly confidential." He backed away from me, crossing his arms and setting his grin back into a firm line. Emotionless. "What then? You were hiding in that balcony to bird watch? And you killed three ANBU members because they were..."

"They tried to kill me, Ibiki. They-"

"Right. I was going to say, 'alien possessed mutants',"

"Ibiki-"

"Why, then? What reason did they have for killing you, Kakashi? Oh, yes. You were trying to assassinate their charge. Danzo. One of the village elders..."

"I did not try to kill Danzo!"

"Incidentally, one of the people who was responsible for defaming your father, which lead to his suicide. But you already knew that."

I furrowed my eyebrows and looked toward the ground.

"Hm. Hit a soft spot, did I?" He stood behind me and placed his hand on my shoulder. "Kakashi, you are in a whole hell of a lot of trouble, and your lies are doing nothing to help you. We already know most of it. You need to tell me the truth."

"That is the truth! There's nothing more I can tell you."

I heard him scoff, clearly irritated. He spun my chair around so I was facing him again. He then reached inside his trench coat.

"Wait, Ibiki-" I started, my eyes wide, expecting him to pull out some cruel device of torture.

He pulled out a large, folded yellow envelope. Inside were papers. Several. He grabbed one and held it for me to see.

"Ibiki," I continued, ignoring the paper. "One of those ANBU members wasn't an ANBU member. I didn't kill the other two. _He_ did."

"Look at the paper."

"I used a lightening clone, which three of them were fighting," I said while skimming the paper, whatever it was. "He threw a kunai at..." I froze. The paper was a confidential document from the archives in ANBU headquarters. It detailed some of Konoha's most dangerous forbidden jutsu, some of which Orochimaru himself had developed. And in the margins, there were footnotes in handwriting. My handwriting.

"I didn-"

"I know. You didn't write that," he said, dry sarcasm lining his words.

"Where..."

"Your apartment. You had it hidden well behind a genjutsu, but the nin dogs sniffed it out in no time," he said, returning the paper to its envelope and retrieving another. "Most of these documents have been missing for months. And this petulant mole was evading us all, until now. Imagine my surprise when it turned out to be you."

"Ibiki, I'm not a fucking mole!"

"And why did you have them? What were you planning?"

"I didn't have them."

He held up another paper, so I could see all the damning evidence that was going to send me straight to the gallows. He pointed to one line in particular, which I read: _Thursday. 4. Suna._

"Hm. Imagine that. The day and time Danzo was planning to leave the village and his destination, just so happens to turn up on a piece of paper that was found in the perpetrator's home and written in the perp's handwriting. And you just so happen to show up at that exact time and day."

"That isn't mine." I knew he wasn't buying it. But I didn't know what else to say, and it was becoming so hard to stay calm.

"Our best analyst said that, without a doubt, this handwriting is yours. And you're telling me someone forged it and left it in your apartment?"

I nodded.

"Only someone with sharingan could forge handwriting with that accuracy. So that leaves Itachi, who defected to Akatsuki. And Sasuke, who defected to Orochimaru. And you."

"I don't know how they did it. But-"

"But Itachi or Sasuke must have snuck into ANBU headquarters, stolen a bunch of documents over several months, written notes in the margins in your handwriting, planted them in your apartment … and how does that even begin to explain why you were fighting ANBU black ops when you weren't even supposed to be here?"

"I-"

"Shut up, Kakashi. Your story isn't holding up. And even without a solid motive, the evidence is overwhelming."

"Please, just listen to me." I was begging. I knew he was right, even if it was a set up.

"Why did you try to kill Danzo? What was it? Revenge? Politics?"

"I didn't! That ANBU, or whatever he was, he attacked me!"

Ibiki sighed. "Why were you up on the balcony, then?"

"I don't know. I heard someone coming. It was late, and I didn't really want to be bothered. It was just out of habit," I replied, rambling.

"And?"

"And it was Danzo and the ANBU. They were talking. I couldn't hear most of it, but I heard Danzo say something. Something about someone being gone. 'She'."

"And then you tried to kill him."

"No," I said, irritated. "And then that man spotted me, and we fought."

"The mysterious _man_," Ibiki mocked.

I scowled, but ignored him. "Whoever he is, he isn't ANBU."

"How can you be so certain? Danzo and the other two elders have their own guards. ANBU guards. And you know that."

"He killed his own teammates. For no reason."

"I talked to the ANBU members. And they were ANBU members. Danzo's own, but ANBU nonetheless..."

"He had two scars above his right eye that formed an X. And hazel eyes," I said, ignoring him.

"The two surviving ones, that is..."

I looked at him for a moment. "Two? No, there were six. So there should've been three left."

"Kakashi... Their stories match up. So did Danzo's. Yours doesn't."

I felt my head spinning. I couldn't breath. He had that look on his face. The look that told me it was over. "Ibiki... I didn't do this."

A sharp _beep_ echoed through the room, and he checked his watch. "We'll continue this another time." He put the envelope back in his pocket. "Tomorrow, you'll face Tsunade-sama and the elders. As you know, because this is a shinobi matter, you'll be tried and sentenced by the Hokage and her advisers. And, because the charge is treason, the penalty, should you be found guilty, is death."

_Death_. I felt my heart in my throat. Even if I was able to escape, I'd be labeled a traitor and missing-nin. Death or exile. Which was worse?

"Kakashi," he said, shaking me from my thoughts. "If you got your students into this..."

I shook my head. As he reached for the doorknob, I saw a hint of sorrow betray his heartless façade. And then he was gone.

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><p>I forgot to mention in the first chapter... Except for some of the older episodes, I haven't read the manga or watched the anime for quite some time now for a number of reasons. So I apologize in advance for technical inaccuracies. Also, like my other stories, Pein's Deva Path is Nagato.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

I had been sitting in that chair for hours, not sleeping a second of it and feeling as if my insides were in a blender with immense and immortal power. Ibiki the sadist could have at least given me the courtesy of untying me or turning off the light. Not that I'd be able to sleep, but at least I'd be more comfortable.

I could hear someone coming. Two people. They were talking softly and walking toward wherever I was being held. As much as I didn't want to have my mind violated again, I hoped it was Ibiki. The uncertainty was killing me more than anything. I desperately wanted answers, and not only for my own sake. If Danzo had truly framed me, what else was he capable of? And what was he after?

The doorknob turned and the door swung open. The men were still talking, undoubtedly about me. One was the sadist, Ibiki. The other was that Academy instructor and friend of Naruto's, Iruka. I relaxed a little. Surely Ibiki wouldn't have brought Iruka along to torture me.

"Kakashi," Ibiki said. "How are you this morning?"

"What do you want?" I asked, having no patience for formalities.

"Your hearing is in an hour. We're here to escort you. Tsunade-sama requested that you be able to speak with an adviser before the hearing," he said, motioning toward Iruka. He began to remove my bindings and replaced them with shackles on my wrists and ankles. The two flanked me, grabbing me by the elbows and leading me out the door.

"She chose Iruka as my adviser?" I asked, feeling at a disadvantage.

"You're lucky to be getting an adviser at all. Shut up and be grateful," Ibiki retorted.

Iruka blushed and I sighed. My two escorts led me through the long hallways and up three flights of stairs, the shackles digging into my ankles. When we finally reached the Hokage's office, Tsunade was already waiting inside. I could see the dark rings under her eyes and her tired expression. It seemed she hadn't slept that night either.

She turned her eyes on me. _If looks could kill._ "I don't even know how to begin, Kakashi," she said. She shuffled through a stack of papers, the stolen documents. "This … I can't protect you from this."

I wanted so desperately to convince her of my innocence, but I couldn't speak. I couldn't even look her in the eyes.

"Tsunade-sama," my adviser said. I'd almost forgotten he was standing next to me. "May I speak with Kakashi-san alone?"

She pinched the bridge of her nose, and then nodded. Iruka led me to a table on the far side of the room. He sat across from me, leaning in to whisper. "Kakashi-san," he started, a waver in his voice. "Ibiki-san brought me up to speed, but I need to know your side of the story."

I nodded. "What did he tell you?"

"Uh..." he stammered. "Well, he showed me the documents."

"What was in them?"

He looked at me quizzically for a second. "Information, mostly on ANBU missions and stations. Some on the heads of the clans and their secret techniques. And there were a few forbidden jutsu scrolls stolen. Not everything has been found yet, however."

"What hasn't been found?"

"I'm not sure. They didn't tell me the details of those since the case isn't closed yet. But one of them was the scroll that contained Mangekyou sharingan techniques."

I sighed. "Why weren't we informed that the documents were missing?"

"Well, you were on the suspect list," he replied. I shot him a glare, and he quickly said, "Uh, most people were, actually, so only the elders and Ibiki-san knew about it. They knew it had to be someone from the village and an ANBU member." He shrugged. "You matched the description."

The double doors swung open, slamming against the walls and giving way to Danzo and the Konoha Council. I cringed when Danzo's icy stare met my gaze. But he ignored me, storming right for Tsunade and Ibiki.

"The hearing isn't for another forty minutes, Danzo," Tsunade said, her mouth set in a firm line.

"Yet here you are. And here Kakashi is. So let's begin."

My breath caught in my chest. "Iruka," I whispered. "I don't even know what's going on. I need more time."

Iruka stood to address the Hokage. "Tsunade-sama, if you please, I'd-"

"Shut up, Iruka," Danzo snapped. The chuunin cowered back to his chair.

"Thanks..." I whispered.

"Sorry."

"Ibiki-san and I agreed that Kakashi be able to speak with an adviser," Tsunade said. "You have no right to-"

"To what? To deny a criminal, a traitor, and a threat to the Leaf Village a courtesy he doesn't deserve?" Danzo mocked.

"To speak to your Hokage like that, for one," the Sannin retorted. "And to try to dismiss an order I've given."

"An order which aims to assist a traitor makes me question the competence of my Hokage."

"Kakashi was a respected shinobi and loyal to Konoha for years. I think he's earned the benefit of the doubt."

"Orochimaru was a loyal and respected shinobi once upon a time, or so you thought. And now he's one of our greatest adversaries. All because you trusting fools gave him the benefit of the doubt and didn't eradicate him when you had the chance."

"You're out of line, Danzo."

"And wasn't he your friend and teammate, Hokage-sama?"

Tsunade slammed her fist on the desk, "You're-"

"If you two are quite finished," Koharu said, she and Homura already sitting in their place behind the large bench. "Tsunade-sama, we must agree with Danzo in this case, although not for the reasons he implies. We scheduled this meeting so early in the day to avoid attention. In a few hours, the streets and your office will be bustling with people. Therefore, it would be best to move these proceedings along as quickly as possible."

Tsunade grimaced, but took her seat. I shuffled to the bench, Iruka following. Danzo stood to my right, wearing a brazen smirk as he looked at me.

"Kakashi," Tsunade started, rubbing her temples. "You've been charged with treason, stealing of confidential documents, and the attempted murder of Shimura Danzo. The Council and I have already gone over the evidence and Ibiki-san's testimony. Do you have anything to say on your behalf?"

I bowed to my Hokage. _She's going to be so pissed at me._ "Only that I'm sorry for everything I've done."

All eyes were on me. I could feel Tsunade's disappointment, and my heart grew sick at the thought. I saw the shocked expressions of Ibiki and Iruka. Maybe they did think I was innocent. And then there was Danzo. I had expected him to be happy in his sinister way, but his dark eyes narrowed as he looked at me. He wasn't buying it.

"The punishment for this crime is death, Kakashi," Homura said, his ominous voice shaking my soul. Death. Death. _Death death death._

"I understand," I said, not able to hide the tremor in my voice.

"Do you have any requests? Anything to say at all?" Tsunade asked insistently.

I nodded. "I do have a request, Hokage-sama." I paused for a moment, feigning emotional turmoil and thinking as quickly as I could. "I hid some of the documents. I understand you haven't found all of them."

The elders nodded. All business. "Where are they, Kakashi?" Homura asked.

"After I hid them and sealed them away, I blocked the memory, using my sharingan, in case I would ever be interrogated..." I was pulling things out of my ass at that point.

"We'll find them eventually," Danzo said dismissively.

"Absolutely not," Koharu retorted. "What if those documents fell into the hands of our enemies before we could find them?"

"Oh, please," Danzo scoffed. "He's just trying to postpone his death."

"We can't take that chance," Ibiki said, smirking.

"Tsunade-sama," I said with pleading eyes. "I know I can't make right all these things that I've done. But I've caused enough pain already. I'd like to return these documents back to Konoha, if there is any way..." _I should get an award for that performance._

"The mind-reading technique, perhaps," Ibiki suggested.

"This is absurd," Danzo said. "Yamanaka Inoichi is in Sand assisting the Kazekage. He isn't expected back for a month, and Kakashi is a flight risk."

"I placed my strongest chakra binding technique on Kakashi," Tsunade argued. "He isn't even able to use his minor sharingan techniques."

"Yet he happens to be excellent in taijutsu..."

"Muscle-relaxants. And I'll send for Inoichi-san immediately. He'll be here in two weeks."

"Don't make the same mistake the Third did with Orochimaru. We need to get rid of this threat now," Danzo warned.

"These are different circumstances, Danzo-san," Homura said. "Those documents are a greater threat to us if in the wrong hands. And the chance of Kakashi escaping is small. I agree with Tsunade-sama on this case."

"As do I," Koharu said.

"Then it's settled," the Hokage said with a triumphant grin.

Danzo sent them a chilling glare. "Don't say I didn't warn you." And he stormed out.

"Come with me, Kakashi." Ibiki grabbed my elbow, Iruka had the other, and they led me through the dark and vast tunnels beneath Konoha. It was a long walk to the prison, and quiet expect our footsteps and the clanking of my shackles. It wasn't until we neared the prison did Ibiki say anything. When he did, he laughed. "You're a shrewd bastard, you know that?"

I smirked. "I'll take that as a compliment."

He nodded. "The mind-reading technique should give them enough reason to investigate Danzo, at least. Although, the elders will be disappointed when they find out you don't have the missing documents."

"Danzo has the answer to that riddle."

"I don't understand, though," Iruka said as we walked through the prison doors. "Why didn't you just request the mind-reading technique to prove your innocence?"

"I thought the elders would be more convinced of the idea if they thought Konoha would be put in danger if they didn't agree to it," I replied.

"And Danzo would argue that the mind-reading device isn't reliable without solid evidence to back it up," Ibiki added.

Kotetsu and Izumo greeted us at the processing station, a gray-wash room which looked like an assembly line that made inmates. Ibiki turned me over to the two guards. As he did, we saw prisoners walking by. Their eyes went wide, and they looked at me like I was their brand new toy. One inmate, a large, boorish man, banged on the thick glass separating us. He pointed at me and mouthed the words "You're mine."

"Now you just have to survive prison," Ibiki said.

My stomach turned. "Is that all?"

He placed his hand on my shoulder. "Good luck."

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><p>There'll be more action in the next few chapters. Tell me what you think. Thanks. :)<p> 


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry for not updating sooner. College happened. Enjoy. :)

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><p>My skull crashed against the meaty fist of my attacker, a brutish man with dark hair who, along with his three friends, had me cornered in the cafeteria and was proceeding to beat my face in with my own tray. I ducked the blow. The metal hit the wall with a clang, which I hoped and prayed would catch the attention of the guards. I slid under his arcing deathblow only to have his gray-haired friend heel-kick me in the stomach. I saw it coming. I even knew exactly how to dodge it. But those damned sedatives and the chakra-sucking collar snaked around my neck made my limbs feel like two tons of jello. I blocked. I fought. I was still getting my ass handed to me.<p>

I knew who they were, my attackers. Rather, I knew of them. The big one was Nango. Large and quiet he may have been, but he was much smarter than he let on, especially when it came to fighting. The scrawny, gray-haired one was Chushin. A sadist and a loudmouth. He laughed giddily as he grabbed me by the hair and threw his bony fist into my eye. I caught him by the wrist before he could land the blow, barely, and jabbed him in the kidney with a fork I had hidden in my sleeve. He cursed me something fierce and threatened swift vengeance, but he backed away, trying to wiggle the fork free from his abdomen. Benten, who I would've sworn was a woman until I heard him talk, wrapped his arms around my neck and squeezed, all the while laughing at Chushin's suffering. Akaboshi, their cool and collected leader, was watching the fight unfold along with fifty-some other prisoners who were all huddled around our corner, laughing, cheering, and trying to keep the guards from saving me. Together, these four called themselves the Magaki group.

Benten was relentless, and my lungs were begging for oxygen. I elbowed him in the ribs, but he held firm. I tried again and again to no avail. As I felt my consciousness failing me, the prisoners suddenly scattered and Benten let go of my neck. I gasped for air and drew in an enormous cloud of smoke, doubling over in a coughing fit. Two people lifted me by the arms and dragged me out of the chaos. When the smoke had left my eyes, I found myself kneeling and bleeding in the middle of the band-aid station, the pint-sized medical wing of the prison, affectionately named so because all they really did was slap a band-aid on you and kick your ass out.

I noticed there was only one guard in the room, Kotetsu. The other had left and, in short time, began hauling in a few more injured inmates. One was Chushin, that dickbag. Much to my delight, the fork was still stuck in him. He sneered at me. "Have a nice breakfast?"

"Hn."

He laughed coldly. "I don't know about you, but I'm looking forward to lunch."

Kotetsu smacked the back of his head and warned him to be quiet before he and Izumo herded us into separate rooms. Izumo stayed with me, helping the nurse stop the blood gushing out of my split lip and eyebrow. She was kind of cute, the nurse. But her breath smelled of liquor and she had worse bedside manners than Hoshigaki Kisame. Although, I would too if I had to work in that godawful place.

"Making friends already, eh Kakashi-san?" Izumo said with a chuckle, trying to lighten the mood.

"Not bad for my first day, right?"

A stiff silence passed between us, and Izumo rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "We should've been there earlier. I'm sorry for that."

"Don't worry about it. You can't watch me all the time," I said. "Although, it might help if you lightened up on the sedatives just a tad."

"You know I can't do that, Kakashi-san," Izumo said solemnly. "Danzo-san was very insistent that you be watched closely. And there have been ANBU members lurking around here every hour since you arrived. If they caught on..."

"I understand..." I said, sighing. _Fucking Danzo._

Izumo handed me a clean towel and an ice-pack. "Did you get anything to eat before they..."

"Kicked the shit out of me?"

"Um... Yeah."

I nodded.

"How was it?"

I shrugged. "It was pretty good."

He sighed. "You didn't eat anything, did you?"

"Nope."

"I'll bring some pieces of bread to your cell if-"

"No. I've already got half the prison trying to kill me," I said. "I don't want to give them any more reason to hate me."

He nodded. "Well, it only gets worse, I'm afraid," he said. I grimaced. "We tried to... Well, the prison is so over-populated already... Your cell was the only one available, so..."

"So?"

"You're going to have a cellmate."

"I wha..."

The nurse picked that exact moment to stick me in the ass with a needle. I yelled and swung at her. She stuck me again. I meant to ask her what her problem was, but I didn't make it past "Mmuh" before I fell ungracefully to the floor. It turned out they were testing a new anesthetic.

I woke up with a massive headache, starving and tangled in my own bedsheets. They must've given me another shot of sedatives, as it was a struggle just to escape the mess of sheets.

"Need some help?"

I backpedaled to the wall and prepared for a fight, my sheets still wrapped around my ankles. "Who are you?"

"Eiriasu," he replied, sitting casually on his tattered mattress, twirling a piece of chalk in his hand which he was using to play hang man and tic-tac-toe. I didn't find out until later how he had managed to play against himself. "My hobbies include making voodoo dolls out of the shitty prison soap and finger bones – if I make them well enough, I sell them to stupid people – I'm a volunteer assistant for the shank-making class, and I'm _El Presidente_ of PETA, People for the Execution of Terrible Actors. I currently work as a full-time cleaner of the gene pool and part time village lunatic. My favorite food is a burrito, especially if it isn't mine. My favorite color is blood. And I have a degree in awesome and a minor in batshit crazy."

"It's nice to meet you..." _Jashin, I hope he's joking._ "I'm Kakashi."

"...And?"

"And … My hobbies include reading, and... I'm not in any clubs or cults or whatever else. I don't currently have a job. My favorite food is miso soup, especially if it is mine. My favorite color is blue. And I don't have a degree in anything."

He gave me an odd glance, as if _I _was the one who was crazy. "How long've you been in?"

"Just got here," I replied.

"Me too. Well, I was transferred from Mist Village because the throat I slit happened to belong to some shitbag from the Leaf Village." He pointed at my battle wounds and said, "Helluva bump you've got there, friendo,"

I rubbed the tender bruises with the tips of my fingers, feeling how swollen they'd gotten. "Hm. How long have I been out?"

He shrugged. "You were still napping when I got here and all through lunch and yard work and play time and now it's about dinner. So I'd say seven or eight hours at least."

"Great..."

"Mhm. So whaddya do?"

I felt my heart skip a beat and my mind went into overdrive._ If I tell him the truth, he'll kill me (or cut off my fingers). If I lie, he'll find out in due time and kill me (or shank me). _"My partner and I were going to rob this house. Usually, we'd watch the place for awhile, wait until we were sure everyone was gone, but we were desperate and stupid," I said, whispering so the other inmates couldn't overhear and blow my cover. "Well, turned out the house _was _empty. But it was being staked out by ANBU. Anyway, we fought. My partner and one of the ANBU members were killed by a paper bomb, and I was held responsible."

"Hm."

I swallowed hard. If he didn't believe me...

He rubbed his nose. "Bullshit."

_I'm dead._ "Excuse me?"

"Bull. Shit. A common thief, who didn't even _kill somebody_, gets this much shit just after getting thrown in prison? Maybe, if you _stomped_ on one of the big bad's toes, but you don't look that stupid. And that purty necklace you've got 'round your neck? No one gets a chakra-restraint like that except terrorists. Shit, that thing isn't even _legal_. So, the way I sees it, either you _are _a terrorist or you're a shinobi turned Sith Lord... a Star Wars terrorist."

I stared at him blankly. "How do you know all this?"

"I had to remove one once. A guy I used to work with had one just like it. He wasn't a terrorist or anything, mind you. Just a regular complete monster and omnicidal maniac. Funny as hell, though. There wasn't a prison that could hold him, so they slapped that there thing on him. He _still_ got out." He paused for a moment, a weird grin on his face as if he was reminiscing on old times. Then he looked at me again. "So whaddya _do_?"

I sighed in exasperation, using the short amount of time to decide if I should roll with his terrorist theory or just tell him the truth. "I'm a shinobi turned … whatever it was you said..."

"Sith Lord."

"Yeah, that... Well, not really... They accused me of trying to assassinate one of our elders. It was a setup, though."

"Why?"

I shrugged. "I can't say for sure. But I'd bet he's trying to overthrow the Hokage and claim the throne for himself."

He rubbed his nose again. "Whatta douchebag."

I laughed. "Yeah..." He was still sitting casually on his mattress. And I didn't notice any shanks or finger-cutting tools within his reach, not that he would need it to kill me, big as he was. "So..."

"Hm?"

"You're not going to kill me?"

"No, I'm good. Thanks."

I breathed deeply and my stomach un-knotted itself.

With violent sharpness, the cell doors opened, clanging in unison.

"Dinner time!" my cellie said with an excited grin.

_Ah hell..._


	5. Chapter 5

Dearest apologies for the wait. I wasn't sure what I wanted to do with this chapter or how I wanted to end the story (and I'm still not certain on that)... So I redid the entire outline. Also, this chapter is fairly short, and it isn't my favorite. But it's only a transition, and I really want to start on the next bit.

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><p>"Here, take this," Eiriasu whispered as he shoved two pieces of bread down the front of my pants. "Hey, mate!" he yelled, banging his fist on the sheet of glass separating us from the server, a scroungy looking fellow in a hairnet. "You forgot to give my cellie and I our bread."<p>

The server sneered at him. "I gave you bread. Leave," he retorted with a wave of his hand.

"Do ya see any fucking bread you fucking piece of shit-trash?" my cellie so elegantly stated.

The server, with a grimace, tossed two pieces of bread over the counter. Eiriasu grabbed them, crushing them in his hand while fending off the other inmates with his fork. He smiled and proceeded to shove the new pieces of bread down my pants, either oblivious to or ignoring the fact that the other inmates were glaring at us.

"What are you doing?" I whispered, squirming and trying to keep the bread from falling down my pant leg.

"Shh. Play it cool." And he walked away.

_Play it cool. What does that even mean? _I followed him to a small table in the corner. He took a seat, surveying the cafeteria and drumming his thumbs against his tray.

I sat across from him. "What the hell are you doing? You're going to get us both killed."

He ignored me and started placing all of his food neatly on the table before starting to eat the "meat". He glanced across the room and smiled. I turned my head and grimaced.

"Look who's back," Chushin said with a sadistic grin, he and his cohorts advancing on me and Eiriasu. He waved a sharpened fork at me teasingly. I looked for the guards. The few who remained gave me a solemn look and turned to face the wall. He was right in front of me now. "I'm going to kill you." The others chuckled. We were surrounded. "Get up." He grabbed my collar and pulled me to my feet.

Eiriasu raised his finger. "Just a minute." He calmly finished the "meat" that was still on his tray, while the gang and other inmates all stood around us, clearly confused. Nango went to grab him, and Eiriasu slapped his hand away like one would to a naughty child. He set his spoon down, wiped his mouth, and stood up. He grabbed his tray and smacked it against the front of Nango's face, breaking his nose. Nango doubled over, and Eiriasu hit him again on the head, sending the giant to the floor.

Chushin watched in shock. "Stop him!" he finally yelled. I took the opportunity to elbow him in the nose and throw him face-first into the table. Benten threw a roundhouse kick at Eiriasu's head, but it didn't even reach the tall man's collar bone. Eiriasu grabbed him by the ankle and threw him into Akaboshi, who was trying to assault me with a fork-shank. He walked over to the two downed men. Akaboshi tried to get up, and my nut of a cellmate stomped on his shoulder with the heel of his foot. A sickening pop sounded, followed by a grunt.

Eiriasu grabbed his tray again and held it up as if to strike someone. The other inmates cleared the way. He walked right over to the Magaki group's table and robbed them of tiny boxes of orange juice and water. He brought his loot back to our table and continued eating. Everyone else followed suit, and our would-be attackers scampered away, glaring at us the whole time.

I got back to the cell first, throwing all the orange juices, bottles of water, and spoons onto my bead and pulling the pieces of bread out of my pants. Eiriasu insisted on staying back to "take care of something," so he dumped all of junk in my lap and told me to take care of it. When he returned, he had a bowl and jug, one in each hand.

"I really like it here, I think," he said, dropping the items to the ground. "The guards don't care about shit."

"It isn't right."

"Who cares about right? I'm not a saint." He grabbed the supplies and started pouring the water into the bowl.

"No, I mean something's wrong. The guards deliberately ignored a fight that..."

"Someone probably paid them off."

"I know some of these guards. They're far too loyal to take a bribe. And even if that was true, who would have that sort of money? The Magaki group sure as hell doesn't."

He threw the bread into the water. "Well, they're not being _disloyal_ if they're aiding in the murder of a _traitorous pig_."

I sighed. "Danzo's trying to have me killed..."

"Well, you certainly could've started with that statement. I mean, we'd be a lot further in this conversation if you hadn't taken such a lengthy route to reach what I now understand to be your thesis. And if you would just cut to the chase, you could help me with this very important project instead of being such a selfish ninny."

"... What?"

"Could you pass me the orange juices, please?"

He squeezed the soggy bread and tossed it to the floor. I handed him orange juice after orange juice.

"What am I going to do about it?"

"You drink it. Duh."

"I mean Danzo."

"Who?"

"The man who's trying to have me killed."

He shrugged. "Don't die, I guess … Could you hand me the sugar?"

"What sugar?"

"It's under your bed. I stole it yesterday," he said with a grin.

"But you just got here yesterday."

"I don't understand how that's relevant to the conversation."

"You … never mind …" I grabbed the sugar.

He poured it into the jug along with steaming hot water from our sink. He shook it, and then he added the bread/water and orange juice. He sat back down on the bed and held it in his lap, his arms wrapped around it lovingly.

"What do we do now?" I asked.

"We wait."

"... How long?"

"About five days."

"I'll be dead in five days."

"More for me!"

"You're really not helping me at all."

"Now you know how it feels..."

Before I could make my witty retort, a guard banged his baton on our cell door. "Kakashi, you have a visitor."


	6. Chapter 6

The guard shackled my wrists and ankles. He led me through the long, cold hallway as the other inmates jeered. On the second level stood ANBU, Danzo's men. Each member was enshrouded in black cloaks and faces covered, giving them an aura of something less than human. Each of their seemingly black eyes were bearing down on me. And I had a feeling that my single guard wasn't there to guard me at all, but to protect me from those monsters above. Or maybe he was leading me out to slaughter.

He led me through a large steel door into a room as bleak as the rest of the concrete hell. At the table sat Iruka, my humble adviser, crouched over the table and fidgeting nervously. The guard had me sit in the chair across from him, and he reluctantly left after some argument with the chuunin. I looked Iruka over carefully. The teacher had circles under his eyes, yet they looked wide with worry. He unclenched his jaw enough to give me a courteous "hello."

I nodded in response. "Iruka, have they found anything on Danzo yet?"

He shook his head in mute response.

"Have they even begun looking? What's going on?"

He gave a shaky sigh. "We know Danzo's hiding something. Ibiki's looking into as much as he can given the circumstances..."

"And?"

"... And there's nothing to be found. We can't prove anything. It's as if he had it hidden or destroyed it already..."

"What of Danzo himself? Can't Ibiki get any information out of him?"

Iruka shook his head again. "Not directly. The elders would never allow it, considering that we have no proof that he's doing anything wrong."

"What about indirectly?"

"We're trying, but there's Root to worry about. And Danzo's on his guard constantly."

I ran my hands over my head and sighed. "You need to find something soon... Now... He's trying to have me killed."

Iruka swallowed hard. "Are you sure."

I nodded. "If I die, there will be no proof. Which means that whatever he's planning..."

"I understand." Iruka took in a deep breath, composed himself, and knocked on the door. The guard came in a hurry, probably expecting some sort of bloodshed, but relaxed a bit when he found none. Iruka shut the door behind him and glared straight into his eyes. "Hatake-san is going to stay in here until further notice," the chuunin stated with authority. "He's to stay in here at all times. His food will be brought to him. Izumo and Kotetsu are to be his guards. No one except Izumo, Kotetsu, and myself are to be allowed into this room. Do you understand?"

The guard tried to interject, but Iruka cut him off with a sharp wave of his hand. "_No one_."

The guard nodded. "Yessir."

Iruka turned back to me. "I'll go warn Lady Tsunade and see if I can get someone here to protect you."

I nodded, and Iruka left.

The guard locked me in, not even removing my shackles. It was hours before anyone came, and I was starting to feel anxious in the small, desolate room. I even began to miss my cellmate. I was starting to nod off with my head rested on the table, when the door slammed open, jolting me awake. Kotetsu and Izumo walked in, carrying a dingy mattress, some sheets, and a bucket. Both of them looked as panicked as Iruka.

"Kakashi-san," Izumo said, nodding. He threw the mattress in the corner of the room and Kotetsu wrapped it in sheets. He handed me the bucket. "Iruka insisted that you not leave, so..." he said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

I took the bucket and threw it in the corner.

"Iruka said he'd be back tomorrow with more information. Just try to get some sleep," Kotetsu said. I nodded, and they both stepped outside.

I laid on the mattress, trying to get comfortable, or at least find a position in which the shackles weren't digging into my wrists and ankles. The hard mattress wasn't very forgiving, but I finally fell asleep.

Keys rattled in the lock, and I jolted awake once again. Iruka. I sighed deeply, trying to calm my nerves. The chuunin looked a bit more cheerful than yesterday. I stood to greet him and waited for his report.

"Yamato-san will be back from a mission later today. I tried to get someone now, but we're short on men, what with Orochimaru's attack and Uchiha Itachi's appearance."

I nodded. "That's fine. What about Inoichi?"

"We're still waiting to hear from him. If we don't by tomorrow, we'll send someone for him."

Iruka sat and I did the same.

"Izumo and Kotetsu haven't reported anything unusual, except the increase in ANBU guards. And I had Kotetsu get you lunch."

I nodded. "You don't have to stay."

"No. But I'm getting free lunch."

I smirked. "If you insist... Has Tsunade increased her guards?"

Iruka shook his head. "She said their skills would be put to better use looking into this whole mess."

I caught a sense of something bitter. I cringed.

"Something wrong?" Iruka asked.

I shook my head.

"You like awful, Kakashi," Iruka said, suddenly showing concern.

"I'll be fine," I said. "Do you smell that?"

He inhaled sharply and smirked. "I hope that's not our food."

I smirked too, but the stench got stronger. I could hear yelling outside the door, more than usual. I walked to the door and listened. The inmates were yelling, and I couldn't hear the guards. I tapped on the cold metal, but I didn't hear a response.

"What's going on?" Iruka asked.

"Hell if I know."

The screaming increased in volume and sounded more like panic. The smell became unbearable. Iruka and I began to choke, and I beat my fists against the door. It was unmistakably the godawful stench of gasoline. I peered through the single small window in the door and tried to call for help. The coldest gaze stared back at me from hazel eyes. I shot back away from the door. His maskless face was twisted with sadistic pleasure. He lit a match and waved it in front of the window for me to see before tossing it onto the pool of gasoline. He disappeared from view, but I heard the tumblers clanking. I pushed the table against the door and backed up to the wall, pulling Iruka with me. We waited.

"Who the hell was that?" Iruka said in shock.

"The not-ANBU member," I replied. I slowly went back to the window and peered through. Mr. Hazel Eyes had either disappeared or was waiting to ambush us. Izumo was gone, and the few guards we could see through the window were either dead or unconscious. The inmates had either been let out of their cells or managed to escape. But they were all running for an escape from the inferno.

I pulled the table away from the door.

"He could still be out there. What do we do?"

I ignored him, only because I didn't want to admit that, if he was out there, we were as good as dead. I opened the door. The ANBU were gone. Bodies of guards littered the prison. Izumo and Kotetsu were nowhere to be found, and I feared the worst. Some prisoners had thrown their mattresses and whatever else they could find on the fire in a failed attempt to snuff it out, causing the place to fill with smoke. Others were simply trying to escape the chaos. They ran from one exit to another, but the doors had been secured.

"Follow me!" Iruka yelled, pulling me along. I moved as fast as I could with the shackles as Iruka navigated through the smoke and crowd of prisoners. He pulled me up against a wall. "That way is blocked. Do you know of any weak points where we might be able to break out?" he said through choked coughs.

I shook my head and tried to cover my mouth in a vain attempt to keep the smoke from getting into my lungs. An explosion sounded in the distance, shaking the whole building.

"Kakashi, come on! Think!" my companion demanded, now starting to panic.

"Hey friendo!" I heard from above. I stepped away from the wall and saw Eiriasu on the second level, waving at me with one hand and holding a sledge hammer with the other. "How's it going?"

"I'm trying not to die!" I yelled back.

"Oh," he replied with a nod and rubbed his nose. "You want to come with me?" he asked, almost as an afterthought.

"Wait there!" I yelled back. I made my way to the stairs. Iruka was already ahead of me. They finally came into view in the thick smoke, in ruins on the ground, along with pieces of the walkway.

"Are there any other stairs?"

"Not in this wing."

"Is there any other way?" he asked as we made our way back to Eiriasu.

"I don't know," I replied.

Eiriasu was still there, and he had a pile of sheets in his hand.

"Throw the sheets down!" Iruka yelled.

He did, the whole pile. And it hit the ground with a thud.

"I meant so we could climb up!" Iruka yelled again, frustrated.

I grabbed the sheets and found an ax hidden in them. I wrapped it up again. "Is there a place where we can break out?" I asked.

He nodded. "Yeah, definitely."

"Where?"

He shrugged. "I dunno."

"What? How do you know there's an exit?"

He laughed. "You're the main character. They're not going to kill you off this early in the story."

I stared at him in disbelief, but Iruka pulled me away. He led me to the outside wall. At least fifty inmates had crowded near it. The one broken window was the only place in the building that was letting in fresh air. The bomb had destroyed a portion of the wall and left the rest of it cracked and weakened. The inmates were trying to finish it off with pieces of bed frame and the guard's batons. The infamous Stupid Brothers, Fujin and Raijin, had joined in, beating it with their fists, and they seemed to be making the most progress.

Iruka grabbed the ax and used it to break my shackles. With the clean air quickly depleting, we ran to the wall and pushed our way through, trying to get as close to the broken window as possible in order to get even a little air. Iruka started to hit at the barred window where the deadbolts met the concrete. He didn't get far before one of the Stupid Brothers grabbed the ax and started tearing chunks of wall around the window. I grabbed some sheets from a cell and tied them around the bars. A few other inmates and I grabbed the sheets and pulled, ripping the metal bars from the opening and breaking the wall around it.

The small hole soon filled with escaping inmates. The blockage caused the wing to fill with smoke again, and the remaining inmates began to panic. They shoved the inmates in front of them or tried to pull them out of the hole. I grabbed Iruka's arm and pulled him through the crowd. We barely moved, but I made sure we wouldn't get pushed back either. I eventually got into arms distance of the hole, and I was able to pull myself through before falling ungracefully to the ground.

Iruka followed shortly. He was coughing violently and unable to catch his breath. And I noticed blood flowing down the back of his head. I helped him walk to the far side of the building. He handed me some bandages from his pouch, and I wrapped it around his head.

"All right?"

He just nodded, still coughing.

"Do you have any weapons?"

He shook his head. "Still in there. They wouldn't... let me take them..."

I threw his arm around my shoulder and led him to the edge of the lake. The ANBU or Mr. Hazel Eyes would undoubtedly be waiting near the bridge. Even if I made it past the bridge, Root would hunt me down in no time. The inmates had taken all the boats. And Iruka was in no condition to use his chakra to run on the water's surface, let alone carry me. We had to swim. I waited a while for Iruka to catch his breath, and then we started the long swim to the mainland.

Iruka was completely out of breath by the time we reached shore, and he was coughing again. I was just exhausted. We heard more explosions in the distance. The building started to collapse. And I couldn't help but wonder if Izumo and Kotetsu made it out. Or if I'd ever see Eiriasu again. We both stared in shock. But I had to keep moving. Danzo would have half of Root after me if he knew I had escaped. I got Iruka to his feet and started through the woods, away from Konoha.

"Kaka... Stop..."

"What is it?"

I heard an ominous laugh just ahead of us. _Chushin_. _Shit_.

"Well, if it isn't my lucky day..."

Iruka readied himself for battle, but the chuunin could barely stand without aid.

"Iruka, just go. It's me he wants."

"Oh, no no no, Kakashi," Benten retorted, coming up behind us. "We're going to kill you and your little friend here."

Nango soon followed, but said nothing. The man's mere presence was enough to add to the dread. And Akaboshi walked smoothly up to me, looking me over. He sneered.

Iruka fell to his knees, exhausted. "But we were so close," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. I stood in front of him, but I knew it was no use.

Chushin grinned maliciously. "What should we do with him?" he asked, eyes still fixated on me. "I'm thinking a slow death would be appropriate."

"Don't be stupid," Benten retorted. "They'll be after us soon. And we aren't getting paid for it any more, anyway. We need to make this quick." He brandished one of the guards' batons.

"They won't be out here any time soon. And this is personal."

Benten rolled his eyes. "Poor baby gets stabbed with a fork and thinks it's personal..."

"Shut up, both of you," Akaboshi commanded before Chushin could reply. "I have a better idea..."

* * *

><p>I wasn't planning on bringing Eiriasu back. But since he's gotten such good reception, I'll try to add him in later chapters. He'll also have a small (but very important) part in a future story...<p>

Also, regarding the previous chapter and Eiriasu's "hooch" recipe... Please don't try this at home... :)


	7. Chapter 7

"So let me get this straight..." Chushin said. He twirled a shuriken around his middle finger, which he occasionally took delight in tormenting me with. "We're going to sell both of them to get money ... which we could've gotten by killing this one-" he pointed at me "which I really, _really_ want to do." He started pacing around the room, the kitchen/dining room/sitting area of a miniature cabin, situated nicely on the outskirts of Konoha's outlying forest. It was owned by an elderly couple, farmers, who were currently bound in the corner of the quaint home, shaking with terror.

Akaboshi ignored him and continued searching for something, finally deciding on an old pair of scissors in a kitchen cabinet. He stood in front of me and waved the scissors in front of my face. I scowled at him and tested my bindings.

He smirked. "You don't stand a chance," He tapped the scissors against the dreadful piece of metal still wrapped around my neck. "But if you and your pet here behave yourselves, I'll consider letting these old bags live for a few more miserable years."

My scowl became a glare.

His eyes darkened. "Understand?"

"Yes."

He looked at Iruka. The chuunin stopped struggling against Nango and nodded in silent agreement, begrudgingly. The oversized criminal grabbed Iruka's shoulder and pushed him to the ground. The teacher fell to his knees with a grunt, his arms still tied behind his back.

Akaboshi walked behind me, grabbed a fist full of hair, and started cutting. I saw silver locks of hair falling to the ground. I tested my restraints again, but it was useless without my chakra. I might have been able to break the rickety chair I was attached to, but it likely would've only succeeded in getting us killed.

"We don't have time for this," Chushin complained again.

"We'll make time. We need to get out of the Land of Fire, and we need money to do that."

"Then why don't we just kill him? We had a nice deal. Why would it be void just because we aren't in prison anymore?"

"Do you honestly think that greedy old man is going to give us anything except a rope to hang ourselves with? And _Akio_? He'd kill us for the funof it."

_Mr. Hazel Eyes?_

"And why can't we kill him and sell him for bounty?"

"Because there's a bounty on our heads too, dumbass," Benten retorted. "If we walk in there, for business or not, they'll have our heads too."

"Then why'd you agree to kill him in the first place?" Chushin demanded. "You were getting my hopes up."

Akaboshi sighed. "Honestly, I thought that son of a bitch would kill me on the spot if I didn't."

"I never thought I'd see the day our _fearless leader _would be pissing his pants at the thought of some bounty-hunter," the gray-haired sadist scoffed.

Akaboshi's anger must've clouded his focus, because he snipped a chunk of skin out of the back of my head. But he said nothing.

"You better watch your tongue, Chushin," Benten said with a grin.

A moment of silence passed as Akaboshi cut the last of my hair. He set the scissors down. "How does it look?"

"Well... Thank Kami you're not a hair stylist," Benten replied.

Akaboshi smirked. "Would you be able to recognize him like this?"

Benten looked me over. "Not without the mask and sharingan... Do you want me to do that one?" He nodded toward Iruka.

"No. He isn't well known, so I'm not concerned. We'll just need to get them a change of clothes... Chushin?"

"Yeah, yeah..." Chushin replied, going to rummage through the old couple's dressers.

"But I'll need you to conceal this," Akaboshi tapped my arm where the ANBU tattoo was etched into my skin.

Benten quickly placed a concealing jutsu, and the black symbol faded into nothing.

Akaboshi held a small mirror for me to see. "How do you like your new style, darling?"

I gazed into the mirror, and my coal black eyes stared back at me. My sharingan disappeared, denied access to chakra. My maskless face looked thin and weary. Dark circles appeared prominently under my tired eyes. And my once mess of silver hair was now only an inch long. I didn't even recognize myself.

"What? Don't like it? Too bad." He smacked the back of my head. "From now on, your name is Shou. If they find out your real identity, they'll kill you, so it's in your best interest to play along. Understand?"

I nodded. And glared.

Benten released me from the chair and Nango removed Iruka's bindings. I was given an off-white shirt and pants and Iruka was given the same in dark blue. The clothing barely fit me, and I felt a twinge of guilt taking the old man's clothing. Our hands were again secured behind our backs, and we were led away from the quaint, little cabin.

Within moments of leaving, I could hear the crackling of burning wood. Smoke began to fill the air. I knew what had been done, and I knew it was too late. I still turned in shock nonetheless. The cabin was already up in flames, the victims still trapped in its hellish blaze. Chushin threw the last torch onto the remaining wall and walked away, all smiles.

"You sick fuck! You promised you'd-"

Akaboshi drilled a fist into my stomach. "I said I would consider it." He dragged me to my feet and we started walking again, this time to the off-key harmony of screams and pleas for help. I should've done something, and I felt the guilt burrow in what was left of my soul. I spent the rest of the walk using every ounce of willpower I had to not stomp on my captor's Achilles tendon or strangle him with my own bindings. I wanted nothing more than to kill him. All of them. But I'd never make it alive in my condition.

We came into a clearing where a number of small buildings awaited. They looked relatively normal at first glance, as if they were a small community. But beneath the facade, they hid a portion of a booming criminal enterprise. Akaboshi grabbed my shoulder and pushed me ahead of him, using me as a human shield, should it have been necessary. He tapped lightly on a hidden door, which was concealed in the wall. It fell to the ground, and he pushed me forward and down the stairs to a seedy basement. His eyes darted cautiously around the room.

Three men, who had previously been playing a card game on a small table in the too dark room, were now standing at the ready with kunai drawn.

Akaboshi held his arms up as a gesture of peace. "I'm here to make an exchange."

The three men looked at each other and nodded in silent agreement. They lowered their weapons, but held them at their side. A bald man with a long scar down his right eye walked forward. "I don't usually accept living merchandise."

"You're bounty exchange?" Akaboshi asked, a sudden unease in his voice.

The man nodded. "That a problem?"

The Magaki leader shook his head, playing it cool. "I understand you're in the human trafficking business as well?"

"I'm not in _that _skin business, but you've come to the right place. Osamu might be interested," he said, nodding toward one of his comrades.

The man, Osamu, walked toward me and Iruka. "I'm not a trader," he said dismissively.

"Then keep them for yourself," Akaboshi insisted.

"You could always train them and turn a profit reselling them," the bald man suggested.

Osamu continued to inspect us, looking us over as if we were cattle. "I haven't trained in years."

"We only need a few thousand ryou. You can't get them at a better price," Akaboshi said, a sense of desperation in his voice.

"I'll take them, in that case," said the third party, an average looking brunette in his late thirties. "Could always use an extra set of hands... especially for so little cost."

Osamu held up his hand, and the man was immediately quiet save a nervous gulp. Osamu's dark eyes focused on me. "... I'll take this one. You can have the other."

Osamu and the brunette grabbed their betting money off the table and paid … for us. I watched as they passed the slips of paper to Akaboshi, and the whole thing seemed surreal. _I was someone's property_. My stomach rolled at the thought, but I never let it show.

"What's his name?" Osamu asked while cutting my bindings.

"Shou," Akaboshi said before I could respond.

"And this one?" the brunette asked.

"Yuuto."

Iruka sent me a quick, pleading look as if asking what to do. I simply shook my head. I could see in his clenched jaw and sorrowful eyes that he got the message. I'd already calculated the odds of getting out of there alive, and the chance was dismal in every scenario I could imagine. As much as I didn't want them to separate us, we had to bide our time.

Osamu led me out of the building and along a beaten path, even further toward the edge of the Land of Fire. He walked a few steps ahead of me, a sign of dominance on his part. But it gave me the opportunity to observe him in the light. He was tall and seemed well-built under his simple kimono. He was pale, with hair nearly as dark as his eyes. But something as simple as his gait troubled me the most. Each step was silent and sure, indicating agility. Indicating strength and training. Indicating shinobi.

I recalculated my chances of escape... _Shit_.

* * *

><p>Thank you all so kindly for reviewing. :) I'm glad you enjoy it. Just a heads up... The next part is a bit dark, as it's the "hurt" part of the story. But your mileage may vary.<p>

Constructive criticism is welcome.


	8. Part 2: Chapter 8

**Part 2: The Edge of Sanity**

Osamu's residence and my current prison could most readily be described as a small mansion. The two-story building rose above the sky-line, looking over a steep cliff to its furthest side and nuzzling the forest trees on the other. The mostly wood outer walls gave way to several large windows, which left the interior bathed in light. The interior, speaking of which, was immaculately clean and well decorated, but it was missing the essential parts of a home. There were no photographs of friends and family. There were no sentimental art crafts or trinkets. There was no memorabilia. There was no warmth. It seemed normal at first glance. At second, it seemed like some desperate attempt at normal.

"Everything in this house belongs to me, including you," said the bane of my existence. "You are not to touch anything or speak to anyone without my permission."

I didn't know what to do or say, so I just nodded.

"You're only to speak when spoken to, and never to look anyone in the eyes. When I ask you a question, you're to respond with 'Yes, Master' or 'No, Master'. To anyone else who is not a slave, you're to respond with 'Yes, Sir or Ma'am'. Understand?"

"Yes, Master," I managed to choke out without vomiting. "Sir, what if need-"

A swift backhand nearly caught my eye, but I dodged it without thinking. He grabbed my wrist, threw me up against the wall, and backhanded me anyway. His fingers digging into my throat, he said, much too calmly, "I'll tell you exactly what you need when you need it. Understand?"

"Yes... Master..."

His grip tightened. "Never attempt to escape a punishment. You deserve to be punished, and you'll accept whatever I decide is appropriate. Understand?"

"Ye... Mas..."

Sweet air returned to my lungs as I struggled to remain standing. He continued walking through the house, apparently giving me the _you can't touch this, do that, or look at this_ tour. Obediently, I followed, all the while disobediently planning my escape.

Up the stairs, down the narrow hall, second door on the right, was his study. The study overlooked the cliff, a perfect view for the miles of forest below, but a less than ideal point of exit. However, the room was not without value. Several shelves lined the walls. On them, an assortment of books, scrolls, and maps were stacked too neatly in alphabetical order. It was unlikely he'd leave that plethora of information unguarded, but I made a note of it anyway.

A drawer slammed against the polished rosewood desk, snapping me out of my thoughts. He had apparently found what he'd been searching for, and apparently that something was a knife. He came toward me, weapon in hand. My feet started to inch backwards, but I quickly stopped them.

"Wrist."

With great hesitation, I finally managed to will my arm toward him. He made a small cut on my left wrist, just enough to draw blood. His agile hands went through seals with ease. He grabbed my bleeding wrist, and I was rocked with pain coursing up my arm and along my shoulders. The pain stayed with me for some time even after he let go. Burned on my wrist was a small, black circle with four lines in its center, two in a row. I scratched it.

"You do not come into this room without my permission. If I ever give that permission, you touch nothing."

Osamu made a gesture for me to follow him before leading me back through the house. He pointed to the bathroom as we walked by it. "This is the master bathroom. You're to clean it. You're never to use it." The one small window was too high and narrow for me to fit through without causing too much noise, but it was the only I'd seen yet in the building that actually opened.

Immediately after the master bathroom lay the master bedroom, a truly hellish place. The burnt umber walls looked like dry blood, accented by grotesque paintings of abstract torture. It had no windows. "...You're never to enter this room without my permission."

The first floor. "You're to dust and sweep once a day and to be finished by nightfall. I will check every counter with a white cloth glove every night until you show that you can keep the house clean to my liking." There were two exits. "You're also to clean the kitchen cupboards and stove and mop the floor." The front door was secured by a deadbolt which was locked with a key from the inside and out. But the back door led to a small patio overlooking the cliff with no means of getting down or around the house. "On occasion, I'll ask you to cook." The windows were too thick to break without a strong weapon or chakra. "I have specific preferences, and I expect you to follow the directions precisely. Understand?"

"Yes, Master." It was starting to come more automatically. It was only a ruse, after all.

Back outside. He walked in quick, even steps, dangerously close to the edge of the cliff, but with no hint of concern. He moved fluidly over the jagged rock with a sense of impatience. I just barely managed to keep up with him between surveying the land and trying not to fall. He stopped abruptly.

"Do you see the path that leads down into the valley?"

If a steep slope of more jagged rock could be called a 'path' … "Yes, Master."

"On that path is a trading post where a large shipment is dropped once every week. In addition to your other chores, you're to retrieve the shipment and move it to that shed." He pointed toward a small wooden building hidden among the trees and not too far from his house. It was only a few feet tall and covered in moss and tree branches. I assumed most of it was underground and that it was well-hidden for a reason. "Understand?"

"Yes, Master." There was decent cover through the forest. If he was foolish enough to trust me moving the shipment on my own, I would be home free. Scenarios ran through my head and I calculated the odds.

"The next shipment will be dropped in two days. I'm close friends with the guards, so you best behave yourself."

"Yes, Master." Minor obstacle.

There was a quiet thrum of footsteps and the sound of wind brushing through trees as we made our way back. "When all of this is done and I've inspected it, you may eat and rest."

"Yes, Master." I breathed in the fresh air before being led back into the house.

On the far wall of the first level was a mural as grotesque as most the others. This one was of a woman, her mouth opened seductively as a vague shadow loomed behind her. Her neck was bleeding. Osamu formed the hand seals, and the mural broke away from the wall. A metal cell door lay behind it, which he unlocked with a skeleton key. Down the stairs was a small room. There was a dim light embedded in the ceiling and no source of natural light. It was essentially a cement box with three doors along the gray walls. Using the other skeleton key, he unlocked a metal door to the right.

The door groaned as it opened, unveiling another bleak room, even smaller than the first. A boy was kneeling on a dingy mattress, his head bowed. He couldn't have been older than fourteen. He didn't move or make a sound, and Osamu paid him no mind. Another mattress lay next to his and in the same awful condition. Neither had sheets or pillows. To the left, a shower head jutted out of the wall, dripping water into the rusted drain below. And next to it, a metal toilet was built onto the wall.

"Shower tonight. Your training will begin tomorrow." The door shut with a harsh clang, and he locked it behind him.

I turned back toward my "bed". The boy was suddenly hugging the wall and eying me suspiciously. As I neared my mattress, he tried to pull himself further into the corner and managed to make himself impossibly small. The suspicion turned to fear as I sat only a few feet from him. He wrapped his arms around his legs and peeked at me over his knees.

"Hi," I whispered. Nothing. "I'm Shou." I extended my hand. He looked at it, and then back at me, and then away again. I sat back, giving him some space. "What's your name?"

His eyes softened and darted around the room as if looking for the courage to respond. "M-master calls me Haru," he finally said.

My fists clenched for a moment, but I quickly loosened my grip when his panicked face caught my attention. He looked away, and I took a deep breath in an attempt to calm down. "Is that your real name?"

He bit his lip and then shook his head.

"How long have you been here?"

His gaze was focused on the wall ahead, now trying to avoid me. "Two years."

The meek reply was chilling, and I begged Kami for there to have been something wrong with my hearing. The shaking child in front of me, dressed only in rags, had been a slave to this sadist for two long years? In the dim light, his skin looked a sickly pallor. There were bruises littering his arms, and probably more under his clothing. His shoulder-length, black hair was knotted and dirty. He looked utterly defeated.

He was shaking violently now, and I felt the cold set in as well. My arm went to rest on his shoulder. "Are you all right?"

"No." The reply came so softly and quickly I could barely hear it. He tried to pull away, his eyes clenched shut.

I backed away and lay on the mattress. My arms crossed themselves across my chest and I drew my legs up toward me in an attempt to stay warm. Haru stayed in his corner, still shaking.

"Haru?"

His head was buried in his arms, and he ignored me.

"If you need me for something, you can wake me up, ok?" I didn't think he would wake me for anything, but I wanted to build his trust.

Without looking up, he nodded.

"Goodnight, Haru."

He peeked at me over his arms. "Night."

* * *

><p>Thank you again reviewers. :)<p>

, it'll be a few chapters yet, but Pein's still in the story.


	9. Chapter 9

"Up."

A sharp kick found one of my ribs, tearing me from much needed sleep. I sat up, bowing like Haru did and trying to suppress the urge to vomit. This time, I wasn't so much disgusted as feeling as if my brain was spinning inside my skull.

"Stand."

My legs extended, shaking with exhaustion. My eyes were cast downward.

"I thought I told you to shower." His acidic voice whispered into my ear, sending chills along my spine. "Did I not tell you to shower last night?" he seethed.

"Yes, Master, you t-"

"Then why do you still wreak!"

"I'm sor-"

His knuckles dug into my cheek bone, the blow sending me to the ground. He kicked me twice in the ribs before commanding me to stand. Using the wall for support, my shaking arm managed to hoist me up, only for me to be hit again and again with a wooden baton.

He glanced over at Haru. "Upstairs. Clean." The boy fled the room, leaving me cornered by the Master.

"Take off your clothes."

"Wha-" Another hit.

He grabbed the front of my shirt, throwing me toward the shower. "Take off your clothes," he said again with more insistence.

Reluctantly, I pealed the fabric off my body, and I felt the frigid air even stronger than before. Without thinking, my hands moved to conceal my private area, and the baton beat against me once more.

"Your body belongs to me. If I want to see it, I'll see it," he told me flatly. "Now shower."

I turned the handle, releasing an ice rain onto my already freezing body. Kneeling down, I grabbed a bar of soap that was carelessly dropped on the floor and began to wash as quickly as humanly possible. All the while, he watched me like a fucking vulture, his eyes gazing up and down me, looking for something to criticize.

"Under your arm," he scolded, tapping me in said location with the stick.

As I looked down, the black swirls of the ANBU tattoo stared back at me. _Shit! _I quickly washed the area, and then, feigning injury, rubbed the tattoo in an attempt to conceal it.

"That's enough. Turn it off."

My body was shaking with such violence my muscles were starting to become sore. At that point, I didn't care in the slightest about the humiliation to which he was subjecting me. I just wanted, _needed_ to be warm. And he was milking the moment for all it was worth. He continued to stare at me, his hand covering a sadistic grin as I tried to melt into the wall.

With one slender finger, he beckoned me forward. I limped toward him, eyeing the discarded clothes in vain hope. He grabbed my hand, ripping it from my arm. A burst of energy coursed through me for the briefest moment. And in some stupid act of bravery, my free hand balled into a fist and flew toward his unguarded jaw. My starved brain failed to see his arm moving to block the punch, but managed to comprehend the pain shooting through my abdomen, courtesy of the baton. I fell backward, but he held onto my arm, pulling me under the dim light to inspect the tattoo.

His grip tightened. "I figured as much. But I expected more from a shinobi." He released me, and my exhausted body crumpled to his feet. "Pathetic." He grinned. That most horrid smile sent dread creeping into the pit of my stomach, yet I felt relieved. He wasn't going to kill me, at least not yet. He was enjoying this too much.

He nudged my bruised ribs with his foot. "Bow to me."

I twisted toward him, resting on my knees with my head lowered and my hands grasping my shaking shoulders.

"You will always bow to me when I enter the room and won't move until I tell you otherwise. Understand?"

"Yes, Master." The small effort had my chest throbbing.

"Do you think you've learned enough?"

I nodded. "Yes, Master."

"Do you think you can please me now?" His voice held sick amusement.

"Yes, Master."

"I'm sure you do. But we can never be too sure with shinobi. "Stubborn sort like you need a little extra discipline."

Cold terror filled me. My eyes clenched shut, my muscles tensed, and I waited for the oncoming blows. And they did, with crushing force.

Alone. Finally. The Master introduced me to the cleaning supply room, a small closet which he promised I would be trapped in should I fail to follow his orders. He disappeared upstairs to do Kami only knows what, occasionally wandering to the first level to either find something or check on my progress.

Every cobweb, spot of dust, loose hair, wayward mark, and streak was attended to with meticulous, painstaking attention to detail. The place looked like a sterilized fucking nightmare. Yet he found imaginary imperfections or created them. His biggest concern were the mirrors. They littered the walls, which I hadn't noticed before I had to stare at my own pitiful reflection in them. I rushed through them, not wanting to face the reality of my situation. There were streaks. Or at least he claimed there were streaks. This most unforgivable atrocity, the streak, made his perfectly aligned and proportioned features less beautiful, never mind the monster that lay behind. So I was punished.

A hand print on the coffee table. Two hits, on the back.

A clump of dirt near the potted plant. Four hits, twice on the thigh, once on the back and arm.

Forgetting to water the plant, which he never told me to do in the first place. One hit on the previously broken rib.

Forgetting to bow. Face slammed against the wall.

Leaving blood on the wall. Six lashes on the back and learning that he has a whip.

After all was said and done, he concluded that my efforts didn't meet his standards and decided that I didn't deserve food.

It was well after one in the morning when he threw me back into the desolate gray room. I pulled myself against the wall and assessed the damage. There was pain - a lot of it - and no chakra working to help heal the injuries. Aside from a few broken ribs, I reasoned that I could probably make it to the Border Town without too much trouble. Starvation, however, still loomed in my mind. It had been over a week since I had a solid meal. Fatigue had set in long ago. Just moving made me dizzy. A day's long escape would be impossible without fainting.

Haru entered, Osamu's claws possessing his shoulder. Black locks of hair hung in front of his face as he walked toward his corner, a slight limp in his step. He sunk to the ground and The Master slammed the door behind him. Haru didn't – wouldn't – look at me.

"Are you okay?" I finally asked him.

He nodded slowly, and then, staring into nothing as if to contemplate the truth, he shook his head, tears welling in his eyes.

I waited for him to say something, but he didn't. He didn't move. "Is there something I can do?"

He bit his lip. "I-I'm sorry," he said, a catch in his throat.

"Sorry for what?"

The tears escaped his eyes, rolling down his cheeks. "I knew what he would do. I knew he wanted you to shower. I knew you weren't going to. But I didn't say anything because I was afraid. I'm sorry."

Tense silence passed between us. _He blames himself. He blames himself for my mistake. My punishment_. "It isn't your fault."

"I should've said something." He wiped his nose on the back of his hand.

"It … It was him. Not you. I don't blame you for anything. Ok?" My hand reached out to comfort him.

He didn't cower from the gesture, but his eyes remained fixated on the floor, full of … nothing. "I-If you want to t-take me, you can. I won't tell."

_No_. "… What?"

His gaze was on me now, sharp with anger. "If you want to have sex with me, you can." He looked down again. Softly, he said, "I won't tell Master." A whisper. "Just don't hurt me, please."

_Wrong. _I didn't breath. Couldn't. "I …" My mind reeled. This child just offered me sex? "I can't … No."

Blue eyes flitted over to me, and then quickly back down again. "I-I don't have anything else to give you."

"That's okay," I reassured him. "Can I ask you something, though?"

After a moment of hesitation, he nodded.

"If I don't clean well enough, I don't get anything to eat. But wh-"

"Master never feeds anyone the first night," he said. "He'll feed you tomorrow."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded. "But don't let him know I told you." His eyes were wide and serious. "He expects you to work harder tomorrow."

"Thank you. I won't tell."

He bit his lip again. "You need to steal food too. You can't live off what he gives you."

"Don't you get caught?"

"Sometimes. But it's better than starving."

He was silent for a while, still holding his knees to his chest. His small form was still shaking. I wanted to wipe the tears off his face. I wanted to brush the knotted hair away from him eyes. I wanted to feed him and keep him warm.

"Can I tell you a secret?" _What the hell are you doing?_

He looked at me with a spark of curiosity.

"I'm a shinobi," I told him. "I'm here to help you."

Black eyebrows furrowed together. In frustration or confusion, I couldn't tell. "Why would you want to help me?"

"Because that's what I do. I help people, and I want to help you. But something went wrong. My team-mates must've lost my trail somewhere. So I'm going to need your help." _He's going to find out you're lying._

"Y-you need me to help you escape?"

"No. We're both going to escape. Together."

"You're going to get us in trouble," he said, his voice an anxious whisper.

"Please. I need your help to get back to my village." My hand rested on his shoulder again. He didn't tremble or scoot away, and I smiled to myself. "If we escape, you'll be free too. No more Master. No more punishment. A warm bed. Three meals a day. Friends who care about you." _He's going to find out you're lying. What are you going to do then?_

A smile nearly pulled at his chapped lips. Nearly. "Do you have friends?"

I nodded.

"What are they like?" His blue orbs were staring into mine now, searching for truth, for hope, for something.

"Well … Asuma's one of my closest friends. He's laid-back, easygoing. Always looking out for his team-mates. Kurenai's also pretty easygoing. She cares a lot about her students, and _a lot _ about Asuma. And Gai … He's, well, my rival …" I grinned at the mental imagine of the "Green Beast" in his green jumpsuit.

"Rival? Like an enemy?"

"No, nothing like that. He's always challenging me to races and rock-paper-scissors. He's … very enthusiastic." I shrugged. "He's a great teacher, though."

"Are you a teacher?"

I nodded.

"Do you have students?"

"Three. About your age."

He almost smiled again. "Are they nice?"

"Oh yeah. Sakura's very kind. Naruto's definitely the friendliest. He wants to be Hokage someday. Sasuke … can be a little moody sometimes. But he's a good kid."

He was leaning against the wall now. His arms still hung around his knees, but he looked more relaxed. I could see in the new-found hope in his eyes that he was trying to imagine such a place. He wanted it. I swallowed hard. _Are you going to lie to him forever?_

"What do you need me to do?" he asked, a bit of suspicion creeping in again.

"When does he leave?"

"Leave his house?" He shrugged. "He's usually gone during the day. But he'll stay for a few days to watch you because you're new still."

"Does he let us out of this room when he leaves?"

"Yeah. If we don't get in trouble. But he locks the door."

"Let me worry about that. Just be ready to go, okay?"

_He's going to find out you're lying._

* * *

><p><em><em>Sorry for the delay. I had three tests this week and I still need to write a paper. -.-

**inominatenoname**: I'm a bit confused at two points though: would the concealment jutsu last and wouldn't Osamu notice it? I wonder what would happen if he found out Kakashi was shinobi.

I hope I answered your questions in this chapter. :) As for Canon, I couldn't find a lot on an actual concealment jutsu. But if I remember correctly, Naruto was able to use a transformation jutsu on Sasuke so he appeared to be Naruto. I figure this would be the same concept, except Benten would focus on one area instead of the whole body.


	10. Chapter 10

White porcelain slid across the wooden table to my waiting fingers. The smell of white rice and chicken drifted in the room, lingering in front of my nose so teasingly. At that moment, all sense of self-restraint failed. I snatched the chopsticks and devoured the small portion of food. In retrospect, I probably looked a lot like Naruto.

"Sweet Kami! We should enter him in an eating contest," said Takao as he swept a hand through his long brown hair.

"Leave him be," Masato responded. "He probably hasn't eaten in a week."

Takao scoffed. "Osamu-san wouldn't let him starve."

"You'd be surprised." Masato crossed his arms and kicked his feet up on the table. "That man doesn't even have any compassion for his friends and colleagues..."

"But if his slaves died, he'd lose out on an _investment_," Takao retorted with a laugh.

"And he'd be okay with his friends dying."

"Don't have to pay for those."

They nodded in agreement, both grinning.

Takao spooned some more rice into my bowl. "Eat up."

"We would've given you some earlier," Masato said, "but we know how he is about being late."

"Thank you, Sir-"

"Don't call me 'Sir'. It's weird," Takao said as he threw a few pieces of chicken in my bowl. "Makes me sound old," he muttered.

"Bwahaha! You are old!"

"Fuck you. I'm thirty-four."

"Yeah? And that's what? One-hundred and six in shinobi years?"

"Yeah? Well that makes you one-hundred and two."

Masato grinned and slapped his leg. "Good thing I'm not a shinobi anymore."

"Just a hardened criminal." Takao took a swig of what smelled like sake. Very strong sake.

"Yeah... I sit here all day and watch shit," Masato said. "The hardest thing I have to do is deal with people like you. And you." He pointed at me, and then grinned.

The last delicious morsel of food disappeared into my mouth. There was some feeling spreading through me. An almost foreign feeling. Satisfied. A smile tugged at the corner of my mouth.

"Glad you liked it." Masato slapped the back of my shoulder. I jumped, but smiled again once my body realized it wasn't going to be hit.

A heavy box slammed against the table. "Here you go," Takao said. "Last one. You have about twenty minutes. Should be plenty of time."

I nodded. "Thank you, S- … Thank you. You've been too kind."

"Don't mention it." Takao rubbed the back of his neck. "Seriously. If he asks, we made you lick our boot."

"Boots," Masato corrected.

"I'm not gonna make him lick more than one boot! That's overkill."

Takao held the door open for me, and I made my way up the side of the cliff. The jagged rocks dug into my feet, and my tattered prison-issue shoes did nothing to ease the pain. By the time I'd finished my task, my arms hung limply at my sides and my legs could barely hold me. I dropped the box unceremoniously in the shed and wandered back toward the house. The aches that seeped into my muscles promised a world of pain for the next few days. All in all, it was tedious and grueling work. But it got me away from Osamu for a few hours, so I reasoned it was a fair trade.

It was time to play my role again. My knuckles rapped against the thick door exactly three times. My hands folded themselves behind my back, and my gaze dropped to the floor. Obedient. _Disobedient_.

My foot began to tap and I studied the bottom of the door. Wind blew through my hair, and birds chirped and sang behind me. _Did he not hear me? _Hesitantly, my hand reached toward the door again moments before it swung open.

"You're early." Dark eyes glared at me. "Why?"

"I finished-"

His open palm drove into my face, and I did nothing to stop it. "You're not a person, so don't refer to yourself as one."

_Then what the hell am I supposed to call myself? _I stood back in place, head bowed and hands folded behind my back. "Yes, Master."

"You are _my slave_, and you will refer to yourself as such. Understand?"

"Yes, Master."

"Start again."

"Master, _your slave _has finished the job."

He sneered. "Get back to your cage. I'll deal with you later."

_No. You promised me food for doing your fucking dirty work. _"Master, since _your slave _finished the job on time, does _your slave _deserve-"

Slap. "Get back to your fucking cage!"

There was no sense of sadistic pleasure or the desire to toy with me, torment me, and beat me. There was only anger, and it was radiating off him in waves. I escaped his seething glare and took shelter in my cage. Shelter. Cage. _Cage._

Haru was already in his corner doing the same. "Leave the door open," he said before I could slam the damned thing shut.

His hair hung in front of his face again, and he buried his head in his arms. I pulled the black strands away from his eyes. Purple and red stained his face. His left eye was swollen shut, and he was clutching a bloody napkin which he had used to stop the blood gushing out of his nose.

Without thinking, my arms wrapped around him, but he quickly pushed them away.

"I'm sorry." My hand rested on his shoulder. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"I know," he said, shooing my hand away. "But if Master sees you touching me, he'll be upset."

My back pressed against the wall, but my eyes stayed on the scared child. "Is he going to leave the door open?"

Before he could respond, footsteps echoed through cement chamber. Haru moved to his knees, head pressed to the floor, and I did the same.

Osamu stopped in the doorway. A second passed. Then another. We were like statues molded to the floor, not moving, not breathing.

The door slammed shut, and the deafening sound reverberated on the walls and in my bones. The key clanked in the lock, and footsteps began to fade.

Haru exhaled slowly, still kneeling on the floor. My arms wrapped themselves around him again and pulled him to the corner. He didn't fight me this time.

"He seemed different than the last few days," I said.

His eyes fluttered open. "He was angry." He shrugged.

"Did something happen?"

"Some men came," he said. "He made me wait in his bedroom,so I couldn't hear what they were saying. Sorry."

My arms tightened around him. _Bedroom. Osamu, you sick fuck. _"It's okay. Does he usually stay here when things go wrong or when he's angry?"

He shook his head. "He was packing things. He'll definitely leave soon."

"Ok." I moved over to my mattress and Haru curled up on his. "Try to get some sleep. If all goes well, we have a big day tomorrow."

His lips almost pulled into a smile.

The metal door shook with a _bang_, and keys began to turn in the lock.

We crawled to our knees, obediently.

The door swung open. "Stand," he commanded.

We stood, heads bowed and hands clasped behind our backs.

His cold gaze swept across every inch of my body and then did the same to Haru's. "I'm leaving for the day," he said after an excruciating silence. "I expect the chores to be completed by the time I return. You-" he pointed at Haru. "-clean the master bedroom and prepare it for tonight. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Master," we replied.

With that, he left.

Four. Twelve. Fifteen. The clock struck 7:35, exactly twenty minutes after Osamu had locked the front entrance. Haru stood guard by the window, while I tore through Osamu's study. Lying in his desk drawer, as if waiting for me, were two senbon, a pen, and a kunai. There was also a small medical kit which I pocketed. And underneath that, a letter.

"Shou?" Haru called from the stairway.

"Just a second."

_Osamu-san,_

_ Due to recent and unfortunate events, I am once again in need of your assistance. The Hokage and Kazekage have increased forces along the trading routes, and they have begun to investigate shipments being sent and received along those __routes. -_

_ - As such, I request that my shipments be in your care for the time being. -_

"Shou!"

- _I trust that you will ensure these shipments are kept safe and out of ANBU's hands. And, of course, there will be a handsome reward for you if all goes well._

_ Best regards,_

_ M-._

"Shou! Hurry up!"

_M?_ I folded the letter neatly and placed it back in the drawer.

"What took you so long?" Haru asked in an attempt to sound angry, but the tremor in his voice gave him away.

"I couldn't find the right tools," I lied.

The two senbon slipped into the key hole easily. With my ear pressed against the door, I listened for the pins to fall into place. One after the other, they fell. I turned the second senbon. With a click, we were free.

In that one moment, I felt like I was truly able to breath again. To feel. And Haru. There was a light in the child's eyes that I hadn't seen before.

_No time_. My hand wrapped around Haru's wrist, and we escaped through the dense trees. The rising sun sat just above the trees to our right. Using it's position, I turned us toward North and fled for the Border Town.

With each passing step, I felt confidence build in me. We'd gone over a mile. The house had disappeared from sight ages ago. In only a few hours, we'd be-

"Shou …"

The rhythmic pattern of Haru's steps had slowed and finally stopped. He doubled over, drawing in huge amounts of air, and finally fell to his knees.

"I'm sorry," he said through gasps of air.

"It's okay. I shouldn't have pushed you so hard."

He reached for my hand and used it to steady himself as he stood.

"We need to take a break."

"No. He could be looking for us. Besides, I'm fine." He took a few steps on his own, leaning on one leg and wincing while on the other.

"You're limping."

"I'll be fine."

My arm wrapped around his, and I pulled him toward a stream. "Just a few minutes to catch your breath," I insisted. "Trust me, we'll go a lot faster if we're rested."

"I'm slowing you down," he said, eyes downcast.

"I wouldn't have survived this long without you. Now, come on." I yawned.

_I yawned?_

"Haru …" My vision darkened. "Do you feel …" _Something's wrong. _I hauled the boy onto my back and turned in the other direction. That feeling was unmistakable. Had it been any other circumstance, I would've spotted it from a mile away. Had I just walked us into a trap?

"What is it?" Haru asked, snapping out of the trance as we moved away from the stream.

"Genjutsu."

We both turned abruptly. And there he stood. With that penetrating voice, the very same that haunted my thoughts. And coal black eyes that bore into mine. _Osamu._

* * *

><p>I feel like I'm rushing a bit. Granted, I'm getting a little anxious to see Pein. And it sounds like some of you are too, judging from the reviews. :) But if I'm going too fast, please let me know. Thanks.<p>

And thanks for the reviews. :)


	11. Chapter 11

Hello. :) Remember all those warnings I put at the beginning of the story? Well, without giving too much away... those are for this chapter. Enjoy (the horror). :P

* * *

><p><em>Osamu<em>.

He leaned calmly against a tree. There was no hint of homicidal rage in those liquid black eyes. His arms crossed loosely in front of his chest. His lips pulled into a smirk. His eyebrow raised. He was a cat eyeing a cornered mouse, us, in twisted amusement.

My hand searched for Haru. Not finding him, I looked down to see the boy on the ground, bowing. His body was shaking violently. I moved in front of Haru and set my hardened gaze on Osamu.

He laughed. "That isn't going to save him …"

"Leave him the fuck alone." My fists tightened until fingernails dug into the palm of my hand.

"… And it sure as hell isn't going to save you." He advanced on me, his lean form seeming to tower over mine. But I held my ground.

In one violent thrust, he grabbed a handful of my hair and tried to throw me into a tree. I didn't pull away, but pounded my fist into his ribs. A satisfying crack sounded under the weight of my blow, and he fell to the side. He caught his balance just in time to see my elbow flying toward his jaw. With another crack of bones, he finally hit the ground.

I brought my foot back, wanting to stomp him back to Hell. But his leg caught the back of my knee. Suddenly, he was on top of me, and his hands were around my throat. My lungs quickly began to beg for air, and blackness enshrouded my vision. I forced myself to quit struggling and held my breath, feigning unconsciousness.

He heaved on top of me and finally released my throat. Thick liquid splattered onto my face, his spit and blood. Like a fucking fool, I cringed, and then felt his fist crash into my face. He stood, and I rolled over, holding my nose in pain and fully expecting him to beat me within an inch of my life. Or kill me.

But he didn't. He walked over to Haru. The boy was still on his knees, hands clasped tightly in front of him as if begging not to be beaten. And he probably was. Osamu kicked him so hard the child's body completely left the ground. Haru landed on his back and covered his head with his arms, waiting for the onslaught of blows. Osamu took off his belt, wrapped it around his hand, and raised it.

The kunai was suddenly in my hand and I bounded toward the sadistic bastard in front of me. There was no other thought in my mind other than _I'm going to fucking kill him_. For the briefest second, I felt invincible with pure rage. My arms wrapped around his neck. I was going to do it. I was going to gut him like a fucking pig, and the thought felt so good. So right.

He was behind me, and I was holding air. _Fucking substitution jutsu._ The belt came down on my back. I heard the snap of leather on skin, but I didn't feel it. My elbow flew backward into his ribs, finding the spot I'd already broken. He doubled over, and I swung the kunai toward his throat.

He slid backwards, coolly. Still smirking. No indication of pain or fatigue. I launched the kunai at his cold, black eyes. He narrowly dodged it, and it embedded itself in the tree behind him.

He was making hand signs. He was too far away for me to attack him by hand, so I pulled the senbon out and threw. Too late. He dodged them with ease. My legs buckled, and the world started to blacken.

"I told you it wouldn' … sa… y…"

...

Pain. It seared through my skull, and rested behind my eyes. My ribs. My chest. My wrists. Everything just fucking _hurt_. Chains held me upright, and my body was lying limp against an inclined slab of wood. Leather straps held my ankles to the slab so I couldn't turn around or even move. But I could hear movement behind me. Somewhere. Wherever the hell I was.

"Shou?"

_Haru. Thank Kami_. "Are you okay? Where are we?"

He swallowed hard. "J-just do what he says, ok? Don't try to fight. It just makes it worse."

I let my head fall against the wood and closed my eyes.

"Are you okay?" I asked again.

"Yeah …" he said before his voice broke into a choked sob and he whispered "No."

"I'm sorry." The heavy words rolled off my lips and hung in the dense air. His silence sent a new sort of pain sharply through my chest. He was shaking, trying to hold himself together. I closed my eyes and waited. It was all I could do.

A century passed in my mind before I heard the ominous _thud _of footsteps. The door opened and slammed with a soul-shaking _bang_, and suddenly I knew where we were. The metal door creaked and moaned under its own weight, just as the door to our cage had done so many times before. We were in the _other _room; the room of which the mere thought would soon send dread through the very core of my soul.

"Well, so much for that." Osamu's breath grazed my ear. I pulled away, as much as the chains would allow.

"Haru," he said, turning away from me. "Did you enjoy your trip?"

The boy hesitated, barely managing to hold back sobs.

"Answer me."

"I-I'm sorry, M-master."

"No," the Master stated calmly. "But you're going to be. Sit in that chair and wait your turn."

He stood behind me, running his fingers along my back. My muscles tensed in response and I embraced the hard wood. He lifted my shirt and wrapped it around my head. His fingers again teased my skin, now trembling with cold and fear, down to the hem of my pants. He eased the fabric down my legs, and I knew he was enjoying every moment of my terror and humiliation. My face was placid, and I forced my body to remain still. This was going to happen. But I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. I wouldn't. Couldn't. He stepped away, apparently bored of this game.

_Crack_. My teeth clenched as I held back screams. Blood oozed down my back, and my skin felt aflame where the whip had ripped away the flesh. My jaw tensed, my body tightened, and I prepared for the next blow. I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. Wasn't. _Couldn't_.

_Crack_. "You see, _my slave_ … I was in ANBU as well." _Crack. _"Until our _elders_ decided to turn the village into a _tourist site_." _Crack_.

I pulled myself up in hope that the chains digging into my wrists would distract me from the sheer agony on my back. It didn't work. My teeth latched onto my shirt and tore into it with each _crack_ of that fucking whip.

"The medical kit you stole from me …" _Crack_. "… Had a tracking device in it." _Crack_. "I knew you would try to escape …" _Crack. "_…because you're just so fucking …" _Crack. _"_Disobedient_."

My body hung limp now. My lip trembled against the shirt. But I didn't scream.

"It's to be expected of a former shinobi. But just like anything else, they all break. Always, and without exception. Just like you will very, very soon."

_Crack_. "Nngh."

"No? _No?_" He bellowed derisive laughter. "Yes. You will. It's only a matter of time. _My slave _will obey me and please me. You will learn to obey me, just as Haru does. And you will learn that failure results in _pain._"

_Crack._

"… Just as Haru did. That is, until you corrupted my poor little slave with your fucking _disobedience_."

_Crack._

"Now I'm just going to have to remind him again …"

_Crack_.

A whimper escaped Haru's lips, and I felt that pain redouble in my chest, worse than before. Worse than the physical pain.

"If only you would've just accepted my generosity …"

He didn't stop until my back and legs were raw. Until I was red with my own blood. I could no longer contain my own screams, and they reverberated through the cement chamber, following the sickening _crack _of the whip. Finally, sweet and merciful unconsciousness overcame me.

...

It was dark. Too dark. Unnaturally dark. I blinked my eyes a few time. _Am I blind? Did that sadistic fuck blind me? _

I raised my hand to inspect my eyes, and hit solid wood. On all sides, only inches from me. I was trapped.

It was difficult to breath, and getting worse. My heart beat rapidly against my sternum, and I was taking in more air than was available in this small box. _Coffin_.

I gripped my the fabric of my pants and focused on my breathing. This was certainly no time to panic; I would only suffocate faster. My hands started to search the confines. My clothes were back on me, but the back of my shirt and pants were caked with drying blood. Old towels or blankets lined the bottom. And near the foot of the box, a small hole let in small amounts of air.

I sighed. This wasn't death. Just punishment.

...

I heard a muffled voice after hours. What seemed like hours. It took me a while to determine if it was my imagination or something real. _Let me out_. The voice drew closer. Right next to me, wherever I was. _Please let me out. _I heard movement above me. Metal. Bedsprings?

More muffled words. A whimper. The sound of bedsprings.

_No. _My fists thrashed against my sordid confines with savage ferocity. Old wounds tore open, and fresh blood seeped into the blankets below me.

"I'll fucking kill you!" _Did I say that? Did I imagine it?_

It didn't stop. The sound of bedsprings. The empty cries. Those dreadful moans of glutted, twisted indulgence.

I could no longer hold up my arms or feel my hands. Still, those terrible sounds remained. _Is this really happening?_

My hands covered my ears and my eyes closed.

I could still hear it.

Even after it stopped, I could still hear it.

...

After a soft rain, when the sun rose above the horizon, the treetops would shimmer. It looked almost magical. My father took me to the top of Hokage mountain to see the natural beauty on days like this. We stayed up there for hours, talking.

_Whatever you do in life, Kakashi, find happiness. _He would tell me.

_Happiness. What is happiness? What does it mean to be happy?_

_ For me_. He would say. _Be happy for me. And for you._

_...  
><em>

A _bang _on the end of the coffin shook me from the comfort of my thoughts.

"Respond."

It took me a while to find my voice. And when I did, it sounded like a hoarse whisper. "Yes, Master."

"Are you ready to come out?"

I swallowed. "Yes, Master."

"Are you going to be a good slave?"

"Yes, Master." _Let me out_.

"Are you going to obey me?"

"Yes, Master."

"Then stop fucking talking."

_When was I talking?_

_...  
><em>

My fingers gripped tightly around my ears and my eyes clenched shut. _Moans. Bedsprings. This isn't real._

_...  
><em>

_When had I last slept? Am I sleeping now? How long has it been?_

_This isn't real._

_What is real?_

_...  
><em>

Light poured into the bleak coffin and sent pain shooting through my eyes. My arms wrapped around my face to block it out.

"Did you enjoy yourself?"

My arms lowered slightly, and the Master came into vision. I tensed.

"Show me you're ready to obey me," he said. "Get up."

I braced myself against the sides of the coffin and pulled myself up. Pain shot through my back, but I managed to get to my knees.

"You've been very naughty, haven't you?"

"Yes, Master."

"Did you deserve to be punished?"

"Yes, Master."

"Do you deserve more punishment, or do you think you can behave yourself?"

"No, Master. Your slave will obey you, Master." _Why am I saying this? This isn't real._

"That's better, slave." He smiled.

* * *

><p>Yeah...<p>

I have midterms and papers coming up, but I'll try to get the next few chapters up soon so not to leave you all hanging on such a depressing note... and get to Pein. :)


	12. Chapter 12

Drops of water from the leaking shower-head fell into my waiting mouth, one after another. It didn't exactly quench my thirst. But at least, for a brief moment, my cracked lips got a sense of relief. My head tilted to the side, and I let the falling droplets roll across patches of green and purple skin.

It had been about six months, as far as I could tell from the changing seasons, since the incident. As a consequence of my disobedience, The Master deemed me an escape threat. I lost bathroom privacy privileges for no other reason than his desire to humiliate and control me. Whenever I felt the urge to go, I had to inform The Master, who forced me to wait while he finished whatever he was doing before escorting me to the bathroom where he would watch as I did my business. This little game of his horrified me for the first few weeks, especially where the shower was concerned. After that, I completely lost any sense of dignity or personal boundaries.

He installed a second deadbolt on the front door that only could only be locked and unlocked from the outside, and he made me and Haru assist him. He severely limited my food intake to a small bowl of some godawful meat-soup and a few pieces of bread every other day, with a fruit (usually and apple) on alternating days. Takao and Masato continued to sneak me food when I moved the shipments. But the shipments stopped arriving several weeks ago, and I haven't left the Master's house since. My weight inevitably plummeted to the point where I could hardly stand to look at my own reflection – Shou's sunken eyes and hollow expression haunted me.

The Master's fist thundered against the door. I kneeled on my mattress and bowed before he could even get the key in. The door swung open. Haru stumbled into the room and fell onto his own mattress like a rag-doll. The Master advanced on him like freight train and brandished the baton, cornering the boy.

The blows came without warning. Haru wrapped his arms around his head as the crushing force of the baton bore down on him. A stifled cry escaped his throat. I closed my eyes and buried my head in my arms.

"What did I tell you?" The Master. He was too calm. No human could do that to a child and still be so fucking calm. _No human could allow that to happen to a child and still be so fucking calm_. _But you did._

My finger tips tore into my skin.

Another blow. It sounded like a punch. "What did I tell you?" he repeated.

"I-I'm … s-sorry M-mas-"

Punch. Haru landed with a thud on the ground.

"Clearly, you're not, because you keep fucking doing it."

Haru whimpered. Another thud, this time against the wall behind me.

"If you steal any more of _my _food, I'm going to let you starve to death. Understand?"

I could hear Haru struggling for breath, but no response.

"I'm limiting your food, as punishment."

The Master released him, finally, and I heard him fall to a heap on the ground, quietly sobbing.

The baton rapped on my shoulder, grabbing my attention. "Up, on your knees," the Master commanded. "Hands behind your back."

I did. My body tensed to prepare for a blow.

"Close your eyes."

I swallowed hard, but did as he asked.

"Open your mouth."

_What? _My jaw clenched shut and started to shake.

"Open," he said again as the baton crashed against my ribs.

My jaw and body fall slack at the command. The hard wood caressed my lips, and warm liquid coated them. It was thick and smelled of sulfur. It tasted like blood.

"Suck it."

My mouth closed over the bloodied baton, and my tongue ran along it. Shou's body moved automatically as I watched from the inside. Even as he pushed the baton and Shou began to gag, I felt nothing. This wasn't real.

Without a word, the Master left.

We stayed frozen in our places and waited for the second clang of the hidden door. It finally came, and I breathed a sigh of relief. As my eyes opened, I saw the desolate room, and the beaten child, and I tasted his blood. My stomach rolled.

Haru wrapped his arms tightly around himself, his body trembling. I sat by him and began to examine his wounds. But he grabbed my prodding hand and laid me down. His small body buried into my side as he draped my arm around his shoulder.

I exhaled slowly. "We can't keep doing this."

Finger clutched my shirt, but his face remained emotionless. "Doing what?"

"We can't keep pretending this isn't happening."

"Why not? Thinking about it isn't going to change anything."

"But we-"

"I just need to forget for awhile. Please?"

I could see tears blooming in his vacant stare. They rolled down his dark red cheek, which would be black by morning. "Where did I leave off?"

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "You stopped Doto's henchmen from capturing the princess." He rested his head on my shoulder as he buried his arms between us in an attempt to keep them warm.

"Ah, yes. Well … Naruto, Sakura, Sasuke, and I held the goons back. We managed to escape off the island and headed for the Land of Snow. We had no other choice, but the princess was terrified of returning, knowing Doto was waiting for her there. She disappeared from her private bus and ran through the trees, trying to escape the Land of Snow."

"Did you find her?"

"Naruto did. He carried her on his back all the way through the forest. But when they came to a tunnel, a train blasted through the rocks and rushed toward them."

Haru's eyes went wide. "Did they make it out?"

I nodded. "Naruto sprinted the whole way. He reached the opening and leaped out of the trains path just in the nick of time …"

Every night, I told him stories about my missions, students, and Konoha. He knew everyone's name by heart, and he could give me detailed descriptions of the village, though he never saw it with his own eyes. He dreamed about the village. It became a fairytale to him.

"But Doto was one step ahead of us. He had a weapon which shot thousands of kunai, and he used it to stop the bodyguards and capture the princess."

"That bastard!" He sat up and focused on me. "What'd you do? You saved her, right?"

"Patience. I don't want to spoil the ending."

"Tell me, please?" he pouted.

I smiled. "Doto's goons hauled the princess onto a blimp. But, just as they were about to flee, Naruto managed to grab onto the blimp …"

A smile spread across his face, and he covered it with his hand.

"… Naruto fought the goons, trying to get the princess to escape with him. But Nadare got the upper hand. He put a chakra-draining device on Naruto, and Doto threw both him and the princess in the prison."

"Did they get the crystal necklace?"

I shook my head. "When the princess was asleep, I switched the necklace with a copy-"

"But what about Naruto and the princess?"

My arm went around his shoulders again, and he rested against my side. I told him about Naruto's daring escape, how he and Sasuke defeated Doto, and how Koyuki reclaimed her rightful place as princess of the Land of Snow. And I promised to take him to see one of her movies.

He closed his eyes and finally drifted into sleep.

My arm stretched to the side, and a wave of relief washed over me when I touched only air. I stared at the dim light in the ceiling and waited for morning.

This was routine.

"I'm going on a rather long trip," the absolute controller of my universe stated. "I won't be back until late tomorrow morning. I expect all chores to be done as if I was here. Understand?"

"Yes, Master," we recited with a perfect melancholy harmony.

"There's one meal for each of you on the second shelf of the refrigerator. I made note of every bit of food in this house. If _any _of it is missing, both of you go without food for a week. Understand?"

"Yes, Master."

With that, he disappeared through the doorway. The sound of keys rattling in the locks marked the beginning of a joyous occasion. A whole night without the torment we endured und- The sound stopped abruptly.

"Sho-"

"Shh. Wait."

The soft tap of footsteps began to recede.

"What is it?" Haru asked, his eyes full of concern.

I waited. _This can't be real. This is some fucking game of his. _"He forgot to lock the top lock."

Haru joined me in watching the door. We both ran to the window to see if he was really gone, certain he was going to forget his mistake and come back. But he never did.

"He probably locked the top lock and forgot the bottom," Haru said.

"He definitely locked the bottom," I replied as I rushed to his study to find the senbon.

"Master told you not to go in there!" Haru stood in the doorway and glared at me as I rummaged through the drawers. "What if you're wrong? What if we're still stuck in here and he sees that we were in _his study_?"

"I'll put it back. It can't hurt to try." My hand reached into the drawer, and I quickly drew it back when I felt a sharp prick on my finger. I peered in. _Senbon. And blood_. A small droplet had spread in a neat circle on one of the Master's documents.

"What is it?" Haru asked, his face read concern.

I licked the tip of my finger and shut the drawer. "Nothing. I found the senbon."

The senbon slipped easily into the key hole and raked across the tumblers. I listened as they fell into place.

"Shou?"

I twisted the senbon. The door unlocked with a click.

My eyes fixated on the doorknob. I wanted so badly to be free, but at the same time feared that, if I turned the handle, nothing would happen. That I'd be trapped here. _The bloodstain. _My fingers wrapped around the metal orb. _If he finds it, he's going to kill you_.

Bright light bathed the walls, the floor, Haru, me. I pushed the door all the way open and simply gazed longingly at the trees.

"Shou?"

"Come on, let's go."

"No."

My head turned abruptly toward the boy. His face was blank, but his hands we shaking. I took a step toward him. "What do you mean?"

He closed his eyes. "I-I'm sorry. I c-can't."

My hands held his shoulders. I lifted his chin to meet his gaze. "Haru, we can do this. Okay? Just …"

He shook his head. His gaze returned to the ground.

"Haru, please." I tried to speak softly, but the urgency in my voice was all too apparent. "This may be our only chance to escape."

"No!" He threw my hands away and grabbed the cleaning supplies out of the closet.

"Haru, what are you doing?" I put my hand on his shoulder again.

He shook it off. A layer of cleaning spray rained on the shelves, and his rag swept over every inch with frantic speed. "Master wants the chores done," he stated.

"Haru, listen," my hand rested on his shoulder once again, and he slapped it away. I swallowed. "Haru, we can't stay here anymore. We can't live like this-"

"We don't have a choice. Master told us not to leave."

"He isn't expecting us to try to run this time. We can make it if we try … We can stay in Konoha."

"No."

"Haru, if we just make it to Konoha, they'll take us in and protect us. I prom-" _You don't know that. Stop lying to him_.

"No, they won't. Master will find us." He moved to another shelf and began dusting.

"They _will_. And they'll _stop _Master from ever doing this again-"

"Shut up! It isn't real! Just … Shut up."

My mouth hung speechless as I watched the child feverishly scrub the glass surfaces. "Haru …"

His hands covered his ears. "No. It's just a story. Don't make me believe that I can live like that again. It hurts too much."

"I …" What was I supposed to say?

"Just, please stop." He wiped tears away from his cheeks. "We have to clean before Master gets back. You should put those back."

I glanced at the senbon in my hand. _The bloodstain, you fucking fool. _"I … I have to go. I'm sorry."

His eyes were on mine, pleading. Disbelieving. His eyebrows furrowed together in a scowl.

"I'll come back for you. I promise."

He turned away from me and continued cleaning. "No you won't. Just go."

A wave of guilt washed over me, suffocated me. I tore my gaze away from the child and finally walked away, one step after another, until I was gone.

* * *

><p>Two more chapters until Part III, the "comfort" part.<p>

Thank you readers and reviewers. Stay classy. :)


	13. Chapter 13

I ran. Until fire flowed through my veins and in my lungs, I ran. The sun had dipped below the horizon, and a dim light shone over the tree tops. Border City. I was close. My legs finally slowed to a stop. I leaned against a tree and inhaled all the oxygen within a three meter radius, trying to calm myself so my fear-addled mind could work out the next move.

_"I had to remove one once. A guy I used to work with had one just like it.__" _Could I find Eiriasu before The Master found me? Was he even alive? …

My left arm was throbbing and had been for the past few kilometers. Starting with my wrist, the pain snaked up through my shoulder and was now tearing at my chest. I grabbed the trembling limb and decided to walk the rest of the way. Breathing slow and focusing.

… If Eiriasu could remove it, others probably have the ability as well. But who could I trust? Another slave-owner would-

A fresh surge of pain shot through my leg, sending me to my knees - a position with which I was far too familiar. Thick liquid began to ooze from my wrist. I saw the dark red essence of my life pouring from the black tattoo-like mark on my wrist. I blinked, and it was gone.

_Maybe you should go back_.

"Shut up."

_You know this is futile. You've lost it …_

"I said shut up."

_… On your knees, like a _slave_, arguing with yourself over imagined pain …_

"It's only a jutsu. I can …" My eyes clenched shut as I tried to repress the pain, but …

_It isn't working, is it?_

"You're not helping," I said through clenched teeth.

_Then allow me to be of assistance. The Master-_

I breathed ice-

_-is behind you._

-and pressed my head to the ground in a deep bow, a conditioned survival tactic of the slave-folk. It didn't occur to me until my forehead had made a perfect impression in the mud that _he_ (I, or whatever part of my personality that had disowned me) may have been fucking with me.

_Then look for yourself. Or are you too afraid, slave?_

I grimaced, but stole a glance.

And there he was, in all of his horrible glory. He leaned against the same tree I had only moments ago, his arms and legs crossed and his expression unreadable. How did I not see-

_-because you've lost it._

He advanced towards me, and I closed my eyes again. His fingers clawed into my shoulder like hot irons.

He knelt next to me and sighed. "I have to say," he started with no indication of rage laced in his voice. "Of all my pets, you've made it the furthest yet." His arm wrapped around my side and pulled me up with him. "Come. Walk with me." While he didn't tighten his grip or make any move to strike me, his touch still felt like fire on my skin - a result of the jutsu, no doubt. He continued toward the Border City.

I kept my eyes to the ground and stumbled along with him. What choice did I have?

His pace slowed as my ability to walk began to decrease drastically. His gentle hand guided me and kept me from falling (or escaping).

_Not that you could._

I grimaced.

"Oh, come now," spoke my Master, "It won't be too much further."

I looked over my shoulder toward The Master's domain. "… w-where?" I had intended to use all the proper formalities expected of a slave to his Master, but my condition prevented anything beyond semi-coherent mutterings.

"Border City, incidentally where all of my slaves-in-training try to run to, if they try at all," he explained. "It's almost like fate, isn't it? By trying to escape it, you only run deeper into its trenches." He laughed. "Either way, it certainly saves me a lot of walking … I know a slave trader there. He's a decent friend of mine, so be on your best behavior."

"Just another … g-game …"

"Game? Is that what you think I'm doing? Shou, I'm disappointed. I'm only the beginning of your new life of servitude – your trainer. And I'm trying to teach you how to survive it."

For a moment, I wondered if he was actually this delusional, or if he was just being patronizing.

"Accept your fate. As I hope you're learning at this very moment, straying from your designated role can be very…" he rubbed the mark on my wrist. "Painful."

The pain surged, as if on command, and I fell to my knees. I looked back once more.

"No, no. None of that." He pulled me up and kept walking.

I stumbled again. "Haru …"

"Don't worry. I'll take good care of _him_." He smiled.

"No." I made a pitiful attempt to pull away.

His grip tightened slightly, and he laughed. "Haru belongs to me, Shou, and he will until I decide otherwise." He leaned into me, his breath hot on my ear. "I understand that you've grown a liking for my little pet. But, if you desire any sense of peace at all in your life of servitude, you must learn to let this go."

"I-I …" _can't._

"No one will blame you, Shou. You're a slave. No one expects you to be some damn hero. Accept that, or you'll drive yourself mad."

Darkness overcame me for a moment, and I found myself on the ground. The Master pulled me up and eased me onto his back. He must've carried me the rest of the way as I slipped in and out of consciousness.

...

"I want them broken, not destroyed." Another man, who I had assumed was the slave-trader, stood over me. His skilled hands sent healing chakra through my body, and I wondered if he had been a medic at some point. He seemed to have some expertise with things of this nature. Though Tsunade's chakra-binding fought against the foreign energy, the trader still managed to pull me out of my trance.

The Master stood next to the table I was currently laying on. He gazed at me with complete indifference. "I designed the jutsu so it wouldn't inflict long-term physical pain or deformities."

I stole a glance at my wrist. The mark was gone and, much to my relief, the pain was beginning to subside.

"I wasn't talking about physical pain," the trader replied, flicking off the light above me. "I don't know if this one will sell, especially since he attacked you."

Something caught in my throat and I tensed, preparing for the punishment.

"I didn't expect him to," the Master replied, still with an air of indifference. "He was just a pet project anyway."

"So I don't suppose I'll be seeing any more of your pet projects?" The trader grabbed my arm and helped me off the table. The Master shrugged. "You never know when another good deal will come along…"

The other man, still holding my arm, led me to a corner of the small building and told me to strip. I did, without hesitation or trepidation. He handed me a bar of soap and started to fill a bucket full of water.

He turned to the Master again. "You know, you could make a huge profit if you'd only sell-"

"No, for the last time."

"He's getting older." He handed me the bucket, and I began to wash myself hastily, trying to focus on the conversation.

"When have I _ever_ sold any of _my_ slaves?"

"I just think it's wasteful, is all. The last one-"

"-belongs to me, body and spirit."

The trader sighed. He grabbed another bucket and poured its contents on me. He dried me off with a towel and inspected me as he did so, his cold hands groping various areas of my body quickly and mechanically. Lastly, he grabbed my chin and forced me to look at him.

"He might sell," the trader said, breaking the silence. "He's attractive … for a slave."

"He's too old," the Master replied tersely.

"Not everyone likes them as young as you do."

My stomach rolled, and I glanced in the direction of Master. Though I never expected any semblance of remorse, I wished, for the briefest second, that he would at least feel bad about what he did. No such luck, as he was absentmindedly pouring himself a glass of tea. His attention turned to me, and I quickly looked away.

The trader had my arm again, around which he tied a bright red cloth. "Do you want to check out my new shipment? I have fresh ones, and we could use a good trainer."

"Maybe another time. I'm preoccupied at the moment." The Master set the small cup on the table and, with a small wave of his hand, he was gone. I wondered if I would ever see him again. If I did, I wondered if I would be slitting his throat.

...

The man led me down a set of stairs and through a labyrinth of dark hallways. The walls of the many small rooms were only large sheets, each tied to several poles throughout the basement. Most of the sheets were pulled back. Behind them, people – slaves, rather – sat on sheets and rugs strewn across the ground. There were about four people to each small room, organized by sex and age. Most were younger – early twenties, teens, even kids as young as six. There were no elders. The slave had a short life-span.

In my cottony cell, there were three men. No – One was a boy, much younger than the other two. He couldn't have been older than Naruto. The trader briefly said that he was fighting with another boy and had to be moved here. He then told me not to fuck him or I would be punished severely.

I sat on one of the tattered rugs, pulling my knees to my chest to keep warm. The trader grabbed a shackle, snapped it around my ankle, and secured the chain to a pole in the corner of the room.

The others remained quiet until the trader was safely out of hearing range. One – small, with dark hair and eyes, fidgety – broke the silence, his curiosity getting the best of him.

He looked at the cloth on my arm, and a gleeful smile pulled at his lips. "You hit your master?" he whispered.

I nodded.

"What was it like?"

"It felt good." It really did.

He bit back a laugh. "I wish I could do that."

"No," said the other sharply, lifting his head to give a warning look. "It's a death sentence." His somber gaze turned to me. "If you don't get a buyer in two weeks, they'll kill you. That goes for all of us." He looked at the boy and I followed his gaze. A red piece of cloth curved around his slender arm. He turned away from us, hiding his tear-streaked face.

"How long does he have?" I asked.

"Not long," he replied. "Neither do you."

* * *

><p>Author's note(s) ... I apologize yet again for the lengthy hiatus. My laptop, after 4 years of dutiful service, finally rage quit on me, and I had to borrow my mom's until I could afford a new one. I have the next chapter finished already. I'll have it posted either tomorrow or the day after, and it will transition into Part 3.<p>

Additionally, [**SPOILER** for canon (I think)] I heard rumor that Tobi is Obito who was pretending to be Madara while disguised as Tobi. I guess. I can change the plot to fit this information without much difficult. It would even add an interesting twist and more emotional turmoil for Kakashi. But I was wondering if any of you would prefer the old "Tobi is Uchiha Madara" conspiracy theory and if anyone knew if the Obito theory is true.

Lastly,

kakashidiot asks: "Um, at the beginning of the story, you said it would probably end sadly. Is that still the plan? It's an interesting fic so far, and I'd be interested to see if Kakashi gets back to Konoha again... or not?" 

It'll be a bittersweet ending... It's not _all _bad, but there will be major character deaths. Kakashi shall be returning to Konoha, but it won't be until the final part.


	14. Chapter 14

My fingers eased their way along my ankle under the shackle. The metal was starting to leave sores. Prodding them probably didn't help, but it gave me something to do.

I wasn't sure how long I'd been down there, but I guessed from the number of what they called "meals" they'd given us that it had been about twelve days. The other two slaves had been sold and were replaced. Twice. I stopped asking their names. The boy was still alive, though they'd denied him his last few meals. I would offer him half of whatever they gave me, but he always refused.

"I don't want to delay my death," he would say.

It made sense. Why starve to death more slowly than was necessary? I offered anyway. It felt wrong not to.

He told me he wanted it. To die, that is. The incident between him and his master was by design. After three failed suicide attempts, he had the idea to pummel the probably-deserving-man with a plank of wood. Death wish granted.

He remained stoic throughout, his soft gaze fixed on the ground. He spent most of the day semi-conscious. Dark brown hair hung in his face as his head lolled against the support beam.

The next day, in his weakened state, he caught ill. The day after, they came for him. Two mountains of men stood over him, nudging him with their boots. In a sudden moment of clarity, his face contorted as he sobbed and shook his head. But he didn't say anything as they hauled him away. Whether he was too weak or too stubborn, I didn't know. And then he was gone.

...

It was day fourteen by my count, and the food had stopped coming. Not that I wasn't used to being hungry by now. But I had hoped, in vain, that they would allow me the small comfort of dying on a full stomach. At least then I'd be physically able to hold my head high when I finally met Lady Death. With dignity. To die as a slave, naked and chained to a pole. With dignity? I sighed.

"Well aren't you a site for sore eyes…"

I didn't have to look to know the owner of the voice that hasn't yet ceased to haunt my dreams, but I did anyway. Hazel eyes, X-shaped scar. He loomed over me, sitting cross-legged on one of the tattered rugs. He looked bored. The feeling was mutual.

"Why are you here?" I rasped.

He took a drag on his cigarette. The smoke drifted lazily through the air as he sent a devious glare at my cell-mate. The man dropped his head immediately, and Hazel Eyes grinned.

I smacked his knee with about the same force as a soft breeze, but I got his attention.

"What's wrong, _Shou_, do you not enjoy my company?" He knew my alias? How much else did he know? How long had he been following me?

"As much as I would enjoy the company of any other fucking psychopath." The other slaves' attention was on me now. Oddly, I enjoyed the small semblance of freedom, talking to Hazel Eyes as I did. It almost made me feel human again.

He didn't seem to find it amusing. His gaze hardened. "You ought to mind your manners, slave."

"Why? What are you going to do? Kill me?" I coughed out a laugh. "Or did you just come to watch me die?"

"Stop being so morose." He took another drag on his cigarette. "You're not going to die."

"No?"

"Not if I have anything to do about it."

"You're a terrible assassin."

"I don't want you dead, precious. Not yet." He flashed that devious grin again. Whatever witty retort I had caught in my throat. He continued, "I may require your assistance."

My jaw went slack and I gaped at him. "You? Me? What the fuck am I-"

His hand smacked against my mouth and stifled my rant. "Quiet," said he. "As you may have figured out by now, our little Danzou wasn't working on his own."

"-oo e-ane."

He pulled his hand away. "Come again?"

"Do explain."

His eyes narrowed. "You don't honestly believe Danzou's pathetic group of patsies would have the finesse to do something as beautifully intricate as assassinating the Hokage, do you?"

My mind was swimming. If Danzou had already taken over, what about "My students?"

"What?"

"Are they all right?"

He sneered. "This isn't the time for you to pretend to care about those snot-nosed little fucks, and-"

"Well I _do_ care about those snot-nosed little fucks. And if you want me to go along with your batshit plan, you'll tell me. Please."

He grimaced. "I don't know where they are. A few jounin and other shinobi escaped shortly after Danzou took the throne, your 'students' being among them. Danzou is having his patsies hunt them down, but he'll never find them."

"You seem very sure."

"Well, I'm the president of that club, and, as you can see, I've been busy with other things." He snubbed his cigarette out on the rug and glanced toward gap in the sheets. "Back to business, cupcake. He'll be here soon."

"Who?"

"My lead."

"Lead?"

He nodded. "The man behind the man. He's a part of an exclusive organization. Probably their leader, but it's hard to tell with this lot. I haven't been able to get close to him. That's where you come in." He grinned again as his eyes drifted across my exposed body.

That cold dread seeped into me. And for a second, death seemed better. "How are you going to convince anyone to buy me?" I tugged at the red fabric on my arm.

"Leave it to me." He ruffled my hair. "And, _Shou_, while your arse is being worked over, don't forget our deal. I'll keep in touch." He disappeared through the wall of multi-colored sheets.

...

It wasn't long before I could hear his voice once again grating my nerves. I wanted to kill him. Or torture him. Or make a slave of his pompous ass. Maybe, if I survived this fresh hell he was putting me through.

He strolled into my cell, this time with the slave trader and another man. Hazel Eyes' lead? Whoever he was, he appeared odd, but I imagined anyone who bought another human being couldn't be an ordinary, upstanding citizen. He was dressed in clothing all black and slightly baggy which covered even his hands and neck. An orange mask adorned his face. The color swirled around one small hole over his right eye.

Swirls knelt next to me and immediately started prodding every inch of my skin with his gloved hands. I was well practiced in suppressing my initial urges to pull away or strike. So I lay there, quiet and still and submissive, trying to block it out.

Swirls grabbed my arm and ran his thumb along the red cloth. "What did he do?" he asked, seeming genuinely curious.

"I don't ask for details," the trader said dismissively.

"He tackled me," Hazel Eyes interrupted. The trader glanced at him warily, but he didn't say anything. "He was still new at the time."

"How has he been since?" Swirls asked.

Hazel smiled at me and took a drag of a new cigarette. "Don't worry. I fixed him."

...

I was sprawled out on the table again, freshly washed and fed, one of the few benefits of this unfortunate situation. Hazel left me to my fate as soon as he was sure he had sealed it. Swirls, who the trader had called "Tobi", continued with a more thorough examination. But it wasn't until his bare, wet fingers eased their way into me did my purpose become very clear.

"I think the boss will like him." So Tobi wasn't my master? I tried not to let my imagination run wild with "worst case scenarios". I tried not to think about Haru's hollow eyes and the sound of bedsprings and moans, but Osamu's image burned indelibly in my mind.

Tobi finally removed his fingers with a wet 'pop'. The trader handed me a clean set of clothes and told me to change while he and Tobi discussed my price. Tobi got a good deal. Potentially dangerous or problematic slaves are sold at a discount, like damaged merchandise.

The trader handed Tobi a scroll, and we left. Another slave greeted Tobi just outside. His clothes were similar to mine, and I guessed that Tobi just bought him as well. We walked in silence, keeping a step behind Tobi, who seemed blissfully indifferent to our presence. It was a small relief, and I took the time to enjoy the quiet walk before the inevitable cage.

...

We arrived in Amegakure later the next morning. We walked all through the night, and I was about asleep on my feet when we finally reached our destination. Tobi led us to the top floor of the tallest tower in the cold metal city. The décor was simple and modern, much less ostentatious than the bizarre buildings and webs of power lines just outside. Like Osamu's desolate chambers, the rooms lacked any semblance of warmth. There were hardly any decorations at all, let alone family photographs or memorabilia. Though, much to my relief, I had yet to find bawdy paintings of torture or any other indication that my new master was a violent sadist.

Tobi led us into a spacious bathroom. I expected the "this is my bathroom; stay out of it" speech. What I got was a basket full of lotions and soaps. He pulled a bottle out and showed it to the other slave. "I want you to prepare him." He nodded toward me, and then pointed at my crotch. "He needs to be hairless. Read the directions and don't leave it on for too long."

The other slave took the bottle and looked at me tentatively. I wasn't sure why he was nervous. After all, he wasn't the one having a stranger rub chemicals on his penis.

"After that, I want both of you showered," Tobi continued. "I'll be back in a few hours."

Before Slave 2 could form a sensible thought, I grabbed the bottle from him. "I can do this myself."

"He said he wanted _me _to do it," he retorted with surprising vehemence, though he was still fidgeting nervously. "It's not like I want to do it. But-"

"How's he going to know?"

"I don't want to get in trouble on the first day. Just … Please?" He held out his hand.

Osamu's tricks sprung to mind. Tobi's odd command probably was a test, and I wouldn't be surprised if he was watching us even now. I reluctantly handed him the bottle. He glanced at me carefully again, needing me to strip, but lacking the courage to ask. I dropped my clothes before he had to, and he seemed grateful.

Sitting on the floor, I leaned back against the tile wall near the shower. If my dick started burning, I wanted to be near a water source. He pulled on a pair of latex gloves from the basket and began to coat my soft, white hair with the creamy lotion. After only a few minutes, it started to sting.

"How long do I have to keep this on?" I shifted awkwardly.

"Um … Just ten minutes." He glanced at the clock, at the bottle, back at the clock. His hands were trembling.

"Are you new to this?"

He nodded. "I had to borrow some money from someone I ... I couldn't pay it off." He drew his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. "How long have you …" His cheeks flushed.

"I don't know. About half a year, I think." I shifted again and looked at the clock. The lotion was starting to burn.

"Is it … Is it bad?"

He wanted me to tell him that everything would be all right and that he would be free someday. All I had for him was more uncertainty. Or lies. "It depends on your master. Just try to follow orders."

His face drained of any life it had. "I think it's been ten minutes."

I braced myself against the wall and hobbled into the shower. My body tensed for the freezing water, but the unexpected warmth immediately made me relax and lean into the flow longingly. It'd been too long since I could enjoy this. I washed the grime off my aching limbs and torso and listlessly watched my hair spiral around the drain.

...

"Are you okay?"

My head snapped forward and light flooded into consciousness. Had I dozed off? Passed out? My fingers rubbed the impression the tile had made in my forehead. At least I was still standing.

"I'm fine," I said as I turned the knob and stepped out of the shower. The kid handed me a towel and I nodded in thanks. He took his turn in the shower, and I spent the rest of the hour with my head between my knees trying to make sure I didn't pass out again. Hazel Eyes, as much as I hated him, had given me a second chance. I wasn't going to ruin it by letting Tobi think I was too damaged to be a decent slave.

The door began to open, and, before I could stop myself, I was on my hands and knees in a deep bow. The kid, clean and dressed again, followed suit.

"Up," Tobi said, making gestures with his arms impatiently. As soon as I was on my feet, Tobi tossed my towel to the ground and began inspecting the kid's work more thoroughly than he probably needed to. "Good enough," he muttered. He pulled a scroll from his pocket and quickly read it. He grabbed my arm. A knife in his hand glinted in the light.

_Don't move._

His grip tightened as I tried to pull away.

_I told you not to move. Trust me._

The blade slid along my wrist and he made the hand seals. The next part was inevitable. Pain coursed through me like fire, and then quickly died out. But the black mark was still there like a damned curse taunting me.

_Like you would be able to escape even without it_.

Tobi repeated the process for the kid, inspecting and branding him. Tobi tucked the scroll away, one of the same I saw in Osamu's study. The sadistic bastard was in another land, but he still managed to keep me … obedient.

He led us to another room in another part of the suit. A bedroom. It was spacious and modern, much like the rest of the building. The only noteworthy differences were the much darker color scheme - the whole room was bathed in black and red - the lone armchair in the middle of the room and the black ropes lying on it.

Tobi grabbed the ropes and instructed me to sit. The soft fabric brushed against my skin. It was such an odd sensation that it was hard to sit still. He took a piece of rope, made a knot, and slid it around my wrists. The rope tightened, and he secured it above my head. He grabbed each of my legs, draped them over the armrests, and secured my ankles to the legs of the chair.

He had me presented like a cheap, wanton whore for whoever wanted to walk into the room. Which could be anyone. Which could be several people. I pulled at the ropes. When they failed to give, I could hear my heart pounding in my ears to the frantic chorus of "escape, escape" running through my head.

"Calm down." Tobi ordered. "Are you not used to being tied up?" he asked, sounding more jovial than he should in such circumstances.

I shook my head.

"You'll get used to it."

I grimaced.

"Last thing." He held up a strip of cloth – black satin – and tied it around my eyes. "It'll be awhile until Pein-sama comes-"

_Pain? _Did he just refer to my master as _pain_? _You must be hearing things._

"-an hour or so. What's your name again?"

"… Shou, Sir."

Tobi pressed a piece of paper against my chest and pushed a needle through it. The wound was shallow, and I guessed it was a thumbtack. It wasn't comfortable, but it was bearable.

"Um … Stay there." He laughed. I heard the door shut, and I was alone. My head rested against my arm. There wasn't a chance in hell I'd be able to sleep, but I could at least rest a little. And wait. Wait for _pain_?

* * *

><p>Author's note: The Tobi reveal happened 4 weeks ago? Sweet Jashin, I'm out of touch with the Naruto reality...<p>

Thank you all very much! I'm glad you enjoy it, and I'll do my best to get the rest of the story up soon.


	15. Part 3: Chapter 15

Part 3: Into Asylum

Could I handle this?

_Do you have a choice?_

The doorknob turned as if in slow motion. The door opened with a whoosh, and then closed. I didn't have to see it; I could hear all of it – somehow, over the pounding of my heart. But I couldn't hear breathing or footsteps, the subtle indications of human presence. This man, my master, wasn't just a shinobi. He was a ghost.

Fingertips grazed my skin and eased the needle out of my chest. After a brief pause, he untied my blindfold and cast it to the floor. Despite my curiosity, I forced my gaze down and away in submission. I did notice that, like Tobi, he was dressed all in black, though his arms and neck were left bare and he didn't have a strange mask.

He undid my bindings and told me to stand as he quickly looked me over. His hand cupped my chin, turning my head from side to side. I inhaled sharply and pressed my lips together. I didn't want it. I didn't want his touches or his tongue in my mouth. My head jerked away from his hand, and I knew my face couldn't hide disgust. I had trained my expressions flawlessly. Why was I failing so spectacularly now?

"Hey." His fingers snapped in front of my face. "Look at me."

His grip on my chin was firm now, and he had me facing him. My eyes blinked open slowly to behold those hypnotizing grey swirls. His pale face, covered in piercings, betrayed no emotion.

_I wonder what all those piercings will feel like against our skin_.

"Are you feeling all right?"

My gaze dropped – and not only because looking one's Master in the eye was a Hellworthy trespass, but because I was gazing into those strange grey eyes and thinking about his cock.

He waved his hand in front of me. I nodded. Yes, I'm feeling quite all right for a good fucking. Just get on with it.

"What's your name?"

Why did it matter? "Shou, Sir."

"Sit on the end of the bed, Shou."

I did as he asked and steeled my nerves. It wouldn't be my first time. Far from it. But it would be my first time being taken by someone. And my conquests had all been willing. I imagined them – their seductive winks and nibbles of the lip and the way their naked bodies laid on my bed like a gift just for me. I could do that and pretend it was real, if this gnawing dread didn't have me frozen in place.

A bundle of clothes fell onto my lap. A black t-shirt and pants. His clothes. I looked up questioningly, but he walked into another room. A led weight dropped in my stomach. Had I done something wrong? Was he just not interested? Either way, Hazel was going to kill me if I couldn't pull this off. Or my students. I pulled the clothes on, reasoning that disobeying a command wouldn't be the best way to get into his good graces, even if it would be easier to seduce him naked.

He came back and ran his hand through his bright orange hair. Signs of fatigue hung on his face. I got up, pulled the blankets back neatly, and fluffed the pillows. And then ate sheets. He had not-so-gently grabbed me around the leg and tossed me into bed. I turned on my side just as he crawled under the blankets. He turned off the light and lay back.

No. No, this wasn't right. He was supposed to be some domineering sex fiend. Take advantage of me. Bend me over and break me. Just don't make me beg for my own rape.

He turned his head to the side and rolled his shoulders. Despite the cold fear creeping in my gut again, I forced myself to smile. Just small and suggestive. It was all I could manage. My fingers lightly grazed his arm, and he turned toward me.

"Sir?"

"Hm?"

I could hear my shaking breaths, and he must've too. But I kept on. "Is there anything I can do to please you?"

A beat, and then his fingers weaved through my hair behind my head. He pulled me in. The familiar press of lips, and then his tongue was asking entrance. My mouth parted obligingly and he deepened the kiss, his warm tongue caressing mine. He nibbled my lip for a second before he pulled away. His hand was still wrapped around my head, pulling me close. And though the room was pitch black, I could feel his eyes on me.

"Just rest."

"What?" I didn't mean to say that.

"Just rest," he repeated. "I'm tired, and you're exhausted. Besides, it's quite clear that you don't want this, and you're not ready even if you did."

Something caught in my throat. "I … I-"

"You will do as I say, and we'll worry about these things tomorrow. For now … Just. Rest." He rolled onto his back again and pulled me along so my head was resting on his shoulder. This part I didn't mind. Enjoyed, even. The warm human presence – any human presence – was comforting, as long as it reminded me that I wasn't trapped in that box.

...

I awoke the next morning alone, surprised that I'd actually slept. My hand fell on the sheets next to me. Cold. How long had I been lying there? I got up and endeavored to find a toilet and then my Master. I wandered through the halls, trying to find the bathroom I showered in earlier. There was a bathroom adjacent to the Master's bedroom, but I wasn't sure if I was allowed to use it.

As I washed my hands, I heard someone come in. A quick look in the mirror told me the intruder was Tobi. He, completely ignoring my presence, walked up to the toilet and relieved himself. I shook my hands to dry them off and turned for the door.

"Wait," Tobi said over his shoulder.

I stopped.

He took his sweet time finishing, washing his hands, drying them, and then he grabbed my shoulder and spun me around. "Does Pein-sama have anything for you to do today?"

So his name _was _'pain'. How strange. "I don't know, Sir. I haven't seen him yet today."

He cocked his head to the side. "You haven't?"

I shook my head. "He wasn't there when I woke up, Sir."

"And what have you been doing since then?"

Sleeping. "I've been looking for him since I got up, Sir."

He pulled his gloves back on and walked out the door, beckoning me to follow. Up a few flights of stairs and down a corridor was yet another large room, an office by the looks of it. Behind it, an opening gave way to the outside world. I could see the pointed roofs of sky scrapers, wet and shining with rain. This had to be the very top of the building. On the patio outside stood Pein-sama. He was looking down, watching something. It was hard to imagine he could see much of the city's streets from this height, yet he seemed intently focused.

Tobi pushed me forward and left without a word. I took a deep breath and walked forward. There was a desk, mahogany under the scattered papers, centered in front of the opening. I glanced toward the opening to make sure Pein-sama wasn't watching, and then skimmed the papers. But there was nothing of particular note, only old mission statements and documents. I grabbed the top of the chair and made to turn for the opening again when I felt a coat draped over it. The thick material was black, like all of his clothing. But the bright red clouds were cause for alarm. My hand trembled and I quickly pulled it away. It suddenly made sense why Hazel wasn't able to get close to this man or his group.

"Shou."

I spun around and quickly tried to school my expression. His attention was still on the streets below, so I took the time to calm myself down as I walked toward him. "Yes, Master?"

"'Pein'."

"I-I'm sorry, Sir?"

"My name is 'Pein'," he said and turned to face me. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, Pein-sama. Thank you."

He gave a curt nod and looked downward again. "I have a pest to take care of. Would you mind cleaning a little and making dinner?"

Dinner? What happened to breakfast and lunch? "Yes, Sir. I mean … I wouldn't mind, Sir–"

He smirked before vanishing in a puff of smoke. Leaving the desk unattended. Leaving me unattended with the unattended desk. I calmed my shaking hands and set to work. The first few drawers opened easily enough. I eased them open as slowly as I could, hoping nothing would roll or fall over. There were a few books, a ledger, and more stacks of papers that were of little interest. The last drawer in the center was locked. If there would be anything of use, it would be in there. Something linking him to the assassination of the Hokage would probably be even more difficult to find. I would have to look later. I lacked the tools to pick the lock, and I didn't know when he would return.

I rushed through chores for about an hour before starting dinner. A bag of goods with Shou's name on it sat in the refrigerator – white rice, chicken, and vegetables. I grabbed the bag and got to work. The sweet aroma of chicken was starting to get to me, my stomach pained with hunger again. One small piece had broken apart from another, rolling in the oils. What's one tiny piece? I slipped the spatula under it—

_"If you steal any more of _my_ food, I'm going to let you starve to death."_

The spatula clattered on the floor while the pieces of chicken sat sizzling in their pan. I threw the spatula in the sink and grabbed a new one.

"Having troubles?"

"I'm s—"

"I know. You're sorry." His long fingers brushed me aside, and then turned the knob until the fire was barely flickering with life. "Sit. I'll take care of this."

I sank down to the floor up against the cabinets—

"Chair."

-and then moved to the chair. Pein-sama set a bowl of rice on the table in front of me and took a seat. I was about drooling at the site. I wiped a spot under my lip with the back of my hand. I _was _drooling. "Umm … This is for me?" I asked in disbelief.

He nodded. "Try to eat slowly. You're malnourished."

Well, I tried, but I still had a stomachache afterward. He spent the rest of the day going over paperwork while I took notes and retrieved whatever he needed at the moment. It was nice, but it wasn't enough to calm my rising anxiety. The gray sky fading to black was a pressing reminder of my 'other' duty and how soon it would happen.

...

I stood in front of the bed, the blood red sheets folded neatly over the black blanket. All open and welcoming.

"Shou?"

I forced my lips to pull into a small smile and turned to face him. "Yes, Pein-sama?"

"You've never done this before."

It wasn't a question. Whatever façade I tried to hide behind, he could see through it. "I've … I'm not a …" Heat rose to my cheeks.

"Who was your first master? What did he ask of you?"

The bane of my existence. "Master Osamu, Sir."

"That certainly explains why you're afraid of your own shadow." He sat on the edge of the bed to pull off his shoes. I tried to gauge his expressions for any indication of what he was planning. But the man was unreadable. If there was any emotion stirring underneath that perfect mask, it hardly showed. "Not that it will be easy for you to believe right now," he continued. "But, for what it's worth, I have no intention of treating you like Osamu did. You can rest a little more easily."

He gestured for me to sit, and I did, waiting for 'the catch'.

"I'm not going to force you to be a sex slave either—"

"Sir? I … what?"

"Believe it or not, I like my partners to be willing … Tobi doesn't seem to understand that … If you wish to leave, I certainly won't stop you." He leaned in, his breath hot on my ear. "If you stay, however, you know what I will want. Eventually." I couldn't tell if it was a threat or a warning. But his point was clear. He pulled away. "The choice is yours."

To think that with only one word I could've been free. Yet, between Danzou, Hazel, and this collar, freedom was suicide. Die free, or live as a slave? I thought I knew this answer. A long time ago, maybe, when I was still Sharingan Kakashi. "I-I'll stay."

He looked at me, seeming surprised, though his eyes narrowed. "You're sure?"

I nodded, hoping he wouldn't ask again because I didn't know if I could give up my freedom again.

"You're still weary, though. We can wait a few more days." He got up and made for the bed, but my hand wrapped around his wrist.

"Wait. Please, wait." I didn't want this, and I likely never would. But it was going to happen, and it wasn't going to get any easier tomorrow or the day after. "I'm ready."


	16. Chapter 16

Sex. Just sex. And some angst.

* * *

><p>His gray eyes had me locked in their gaze like a woodland creature in a beam of light, examining me. "Your hands are shaking."<p>

I gripped one hand with the other. "I-"

"You're not ready." He turned toward the bed, but stopped and glanced at me over his shoulder. "Why so eager?"

What was this? A test? Would my answer determine my fate, if only for tonight? Regardless, my resolve was slipping with each passing moment. If I couldn't convince him now, it wasn't going to happen. And I wanted at least to have a little bit of a say in when I would or wouldn't get fucked, just for the sake of having a say at all. Maybe I had one more bold act left in me. I closed me eyes for a moment and pressed my fingers against his firm back, letting them slide down. "I just want to please you, Sir-"

"The truth," he said as he turned and grabbed my wrist.

So much for that. "I'm just nervous, Sir," I said, the words spilling out as if their true allegiance lay with him. "It will only get worse the longer I wait."

"You want to get it over with."

"I don't want to be afraid any more."

A brief moment passed. His hard gaze softened and he weaved his fingers through my hair. "This is what you want?"

I nodded, feeling his hand brush against the back of my head.

His fist tightened as he pulled me toward him so I was pressed against his chest. "Do exactly as I say. If you ever feel the need to stop, tell me immediately. Can you do that?"

His few instructions, whispered into my ear, had sent chills up my spine and heat to my groin. I wanted to pull away from the domineering man and press into him for even a semblance of affection I had so desperately missed. So I did what any good slave would do – whatever he instructed. "Yes, Sir."

His lips pressed against my cheek and trailed to my mouth, his teeth nibbling at my lip. He kissed me deeply for a few seconds before pushing me onto the bed and trapping me between his legs. His hands weaselled their way up my shirt, pulling it off and casting it to the floor before sliding down to my pants. His pants. They joined the shirt on the floor, and I was left once again completely exposed to him.

Exposed. Physically and emotionally. Those gray eyes saw all of me. All of my weaknesses. All of my secrets.

He leaned in, his clothed chest hot against my naked one, and grabbed my wrists. "Shou."

He had my full attention, though all I could manage was swallowing in response.

"Relax," he said, slowly releasing my wrists and placing a chaste kiss on my forehead. I took a deep breath as he pulled away from me and peeled off his clothes, casually discarding them. I somewhat envied his tranquillity. Then again, why wouldn't he be calm? He was in complete control, and I was in no position to judge him.

"Up," he instructed and smacked my ass. I obliged, lifting my hips high and inviting. My head dropped onto the mattress as he stole my pillow and placed it under my hips, keeping me lifted.

He grabbed a bottle off the night-stand and coated his fingers with its contents. I knew how the next part went, yet I still gasped when his smooth fingers pushed their way inside me. They pulled out slowly before pushing in, then out, in, out, in. He made short work of preparing me and found my pleasure spot within moments. It wasn't long until he had me writhing on the red sheets. I'd gone without touch for far too long, and my body was betraying me any sense of dignity.

His teasing fingers withdrew, and I took the opportunity to breath. I could see the smug smile on his face, and the knot in my stomach tightened. If he noticed, he ignored it and beckoned me with the same fingers that had just been inside of me.

I sat up, and his lips lightly touched mine as he rubbed the silky oils onto my hand. I looked down, knowing what he expected, but looked back at him, my eyes slightly wider than they were before.

His eyebrow raised. "Just be glad I'm not asking you to prepare me with your mouth."

No, I hadn't given a handjob before, at least not to anyone other than myself. But that wasn't what concerned me. Not when I had, literally, a much larger issue to deal with. But how does one say, 'I'm sorry, Sir. You're just so big' without sounding like a cheap pornstar?

I wrapped my hand around his cock, now standing at attention and throbbing, and rubbed every bit of the hard organ with the oils until it was gleaming. When he was satisfied, he pulled my hands away and pushed me back onto the bed.

My skin burned under his gaze, and every touch had me squirming. Confusion of lust and panic surged when his chest pressed against mine. The small piercings that aligned the curve of his ribcage felt magnetic and warm, almost as if they had an energy of their own. My body arched against his, heedless of my mind's begging it to remain still.

He kissed me for a moment before leaning into my ear. "You seem to be enjoying yourself."

The amusement in his voice was thick, and I fought back a glare. Though I was trying to ignore it in some vain hope it would go away, I was all too aware of my cock pressing against my stomach, hard and eager.

"This might hurt a little. Just try to relax." He grinned as he held my wrists above my head. "And no touching." As soon as he released me, I had to grab the headboard to keep my hands occupied. When he pulled away, I had to bite back a moan at the loss of contact. I could deal with the shame later. Right now, pure lust was taking control, and I needed release.

He draped my leg over his shoulder, lifting me even higher for easy access. Before I was ready, his cock was pressing between the swells of my ass. He pushed in slowly, carefully, watching my expression. It burned – even worse when my body tried to fight the intrusion – and my face contorted in pain.

He had my hips in a vice grip to keep me from squirming or pulling away. "Take a deep breath and relax," he commanded. I took three before the burning started to subside. But it was still there. He started moving again in a circular motion, pushing in deeper each time until he was at a steady pace and I was starting to enjoy the slight burn. Enjoying the pain.

The sensation was overwhelming. My knuckles were white with the death grip I had on the headboard, and my free leg was wrapped around his back, pulling him in closer. After what seemed like a fucking eternity, his hand wrapped around my cock and moved in synch with his thrusts. With every throb in my ass and every ragged breath I took, the pressure built beyond what I thought possible.

He said in that low voice, barely above a whisper, "Let go," and my own warm seed rained on my chest. Shortly after, I felt his body begin to quiver. In one last thrust, he released inside me before collapsing on the bed.

"Are you feeling less worried now?"

I nodded. There was a subtle throbbing in my ass, and I was covered in sweat and ejaculate. That aside, I didn't feel all too bad. This first step was over, and it wasn't nearly as humiliating or torturous as I had anticipated. Maybe Pein-sama wasn't the monster Osamu had been.

Then again, he was an Akatsuki member. Leader. How much more generosity could I expect from the leader of the most feared group of criminals in the shinobi nation?

He disappeared into the bathroom and returned with a damp cloth. The bed dipped under his weight as he leaned toward me and wiped my chest and ass clean. I lay there, bordering on comatose, legs still spread and hands still grasping the headboard. I had to force myself to crawl under the blankets, and then sleep took hold.

My eyes peeled open, still heavy with sleep, and it was dark. Unnaturally dark. The cold was striking against my bare skin. And I could smell the distinct odor of wood and urine that had soaked into the filthy sheets and wood months ago.

_Kakashi_.

And heard bedsprings.

_Kakas-_

And felt the bruising of my hands as I beat against my confinement.

"Shou!"

I woke with a start, my breath short and choppy. Pein-sama knelt over me with my wrists in his firm grip. Once I'd calmed down, he released me and fell back onto his pillow.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. There was a tremble in my voice I tried to mask, but failed miserably.

"It's quite all right." He pulled me toward him, and I was grateful for the comfort. "Try to get some sleep."

* * *

><p>optimistic-snoopy said: "I didn't expect Pein like this, completely thought he would be different.<br>Thanks for updating!"

No problem. Hopefully I'll be able to update a little more quickly now that I've got a few tests and a speech out of the way.

What did you expect him to be like?

Prescripto said: "I wonder if Tobi or Pein knows who "Shou" really is. Kakashi's appearance, after all, is a bit unique."

Indeed, it may become a problem. :)


	17. Chapter 17

A woman was in the room when I awoke, adorned by the iconic Akatsuki cloak and a paper flower in her strange blue hair. She still held the edge of the door, her pixie-like features contorted in anger as she caught me in her gaze. The door slammed shut with her leave.

Pein-sama peeled my arms away and reached for his clothes. He said nothing, and I dared not ask, instead allowing my imagination run rampant. I'd never met the woman, at least not that I remember. I couldn't possibly have fucked up this quickly. Maybe she had a disdain for slaves. Regardless, it didn't help loosen the knot in my stomach.

"Stay here." Pein glanced at me. His expression read indifference. I kept my head down, but still looked to him, silently asking for some indication that I wasn't in danger of punishment. He gave me nothing and left.

I scooted back toward the headboard and pulled the sheets around me, considering the clothes still lying in a heap on the floor. Though he never mentioned anything about dressing, and I wasn't too thrilled about putting anything on my body when it still smelled like the aftermath of sex.

Sex. That dreaded word brought the flood of memories. It seemed like some wanton dream of ages ago, despite the soreness in my ass as evidence of the events. I shifted uncomfortably and rested my head between my knees. At least the first bit was over. Now I only had to repeat it every night for the rest of my probably short life.

Pein-sama returned after only a few minutes. His flawless mask still concealed any hint as to what was going on, what he was thinking, or anything else. He simply held a hand out for me. I took it tentatively, and then regretted it when he led me into the bathroom.

"Could you fill the bath, please?" He ran a hand through his mess of orange hair and grabbed a few towels and soap. I checked the water to make sure it wasn't too hot, or at least pretended to busy myself instead of standing in the middle of the bathroom awkwardly and naked.

The towels dropped on a table near the bathroom. Pein motioned for me to get in and handed me the soaps before stripping and climbing in behind me. The lukewarm water eased the tension in my sore muscles, and I felt content to sit there for a couple of years. But I didn't imagine he invited me into his bath just to take up space.

I lathered the sponge with soap and moved toward him, but stopped just short of touching his pale, wet skin. It was a conditioned behavior. I didn't think I could force myself to touch him unless he gave me permission. Unless he commanded me to. He must've read the conflict in my face and was kind enough not to make me ask. He merely nodded and scooted to the side.

I began with his chest, rubbing the soapy sponge up toward his shoulders and gently circling each piercing. Water poured over my head and I jumped a bit. He gave me a smirk and began rubbing shampoo in my hair. He started on his own hair after rinsing mine, and I continued downward. He inhaled sharply, trying to mask it. His cock was already starting to grow in my soap-slicked hand. It crossed my mind that finishing him now might spare me a sore ass later. But he pulled my hand away, holding it in his own.

"Not now." He gave me no explanation, but placed a chaste kiss on my lips and abruptly left.

Following Pein back to his office, I expected more paperwork and other secretarial duties. Compared to my previous chores, I certainly didn't mind this. But I was taken aback when I saw the blue haired woman standing near the desk. Pein greeted her with a solemn nod while I tried to make myself as hidden as possible behind him. It didn't work. Pein pulled me forward, his arm wrapped around my waist so I couldn't escape.

Without addressing me, she carefully observed my appearance, likely pitiful and likely the cause of her softening gaze. Her hand rested on my shoulder in a way that was almost comforting, and she turned to face Pein.

"You still don't like it," Pein broke the silence.

Her hand tightened, though not enough to be painful. "You know I don't. But what bothers me most is that you're agreeing to it."

"I am not agreeing to it," he retorted.

She ignored him, instead turning to me. "I'm Konan, and I apologize for whatever hell Pein and Tobi have put you through."

I bowed slightly, trying to keep formalities without making Pein-sama look like a tyrant. "Thank you, Ma'am. It wasn't too hellish."

To my relief, she smiled. "That's good," she said, and then shot a cautionary look at Pein-sama. "Let's keep it that way." With that, she left us alone again.

"She's a good friend of mine," Pein-sama explained. "She helps me run this city, so expect to see her around quite often." He reached inside that dreadful cloak from which he pulled a handful of coins, dropping them into my hand. "You're going to need your own clothes. This should be enough for now."

I dropped the coins into my pocket. Perhaps it was merely the fabric of my pants brushing against it, but the black mark began to itch, a subtle reminder. And maybe this was a good opportunity to gain a little longer leash. "Um … Sir?" I held out my wrist.

He glanced at the heinous tattoo. "There are a few clothing stores nearby, as well as a grocery store and bookstore. You should be able to visit those without activating the jutsu."

So much for that. But he did mention … "A bookstore?"

He nodded. "Two blocks away, next to the park." From the coatrack, he grabbed one of the heavy raincoats, surely a necessity in Rain Country, and handed it to me. I took it with thanks and he shooed me out the door.

Three sets of clothes and a pair of shoes later, I found myself intently searching for a copy of Icha Icha Paradise while simultaneously thinking up how I was going to explain my fondness for the book to Pein-sama. The orange-bound book stood in stark contrast to its drab counterparts, and I found it in short time. He would certainly find it eventually. And, at the very least, I would be the subject of some humiliation for a while.

Worth it. I grabbed my spoils, paid, and set off.

"Wait." The voice, a calm whisper, came from the man I had just walked by who seemed to be skimming the pages of a philosophy book. "I believe there's something interesting in the book behind me. You should take a look."

My jaw tightened. If I turned to address him openly, such an act could be misconstrued as betrayal, which I doubt Pein-sama would take lightly. If I didn't, I risked never seeing the face of Hazel's lackey and perhaps my potential murderer. "I think I have to get back, actually. It's getting l-"

"Have a look, _Kakashi_."

My fist was next to tighten, but I did as he instructed, picking a book at random and flipping through the pages.

"Who is their leader?"

Such a terse question, yet so sinister. "I don't know. You have to give me more time."

"You've been living under this man as a slave for two days. How could you possibly not know his name?"

"I'm not sure he's the leader," I retorted. "I haven't found any concrete evidence to prove he–."

"What is his name?" he asked again.

With a sigh, I set the book back on the shelf. "He goes by an alias. I don't know his real name."

"Then what is his alias?"

I turned. The room quickly filled with tension. The man, whoever he was, kept his back to me, the hood of his heavy raincoat – oddly bone dry despite the heavy downpour – pulled over his head. But he abruptly ceased any pretense of being an ordinary customer. "Pein," I said. "He goes by 'Pein'."

He turned quickly on his heels, head down, and made for the exit, stopping just short of the doorway. He knew they were coming. ANBU, or Ame's equivalent. The question, then, were they coming for me as well?

"What are you planning?" I yelled after him.

"That isn't your concern," he replied. His fingers entwined to form intricate designs in rapid succession – a substitution jutsu which summoned a small carrier bird. The bird took to the sky, soaring above the skyline with information that would soon be used for the assassination of the leader of Amegakure.

The ANBU appeared like phantoms to surround their prey. But they didn't see the glint of light reflecting on metal in the man's hand. By the time they did, he had already dragged the blade across his own throat. His knees dropped into a pool of his own blood.

Then chaos. Screams from the streets penetrated the small bookstore, and many of their owners ran for the cover of the many buildings, perhaps believing there had been an attack. The ANBU created a barrier between the tragedy that had just unfolded and the citizens' awareness of it. All but two. They each placed a hand on my shoulder and made to haul me away through the opposite door. To prison? To Pein-sama? I didn't know. Though the thought lingered in the back of my mind, it didn't concern me at the moment.

Before they could restrain me further, I ducked their stronghold and shoved my way through the circle of ANBU. The man lay on his side, folded over. He dropped in seconds, lifeless. His face was slack. Pupils dilated. Yet he somehow seemed to hold conviction in those dead eyes. Pride.

It was nothing I hadn't seen before, but it still managed to shock and horrify. Not the blood cascading from his neck and mouth. It was the resolute loyalty to such a senseless and criminal cause. The memories of the not-ANBU members atop that roof the night Danzo framed me flashed through my mind – the way Hazel so casually murdered them, especially. How could a man such as Hazel command such loyalty?

I dispelled the thoughts. Ruminating on them wouldn't change anything. Instead, I focused on his face again – his hair, his cheek bones, his mouth. Brown hair. Brown eyes. No distinctive features whatsoever. Unremarkable, even for a spy. I doubted if they'd even discover his identity, or if he even had a true identity.

"Shou-san."

I turned to face the ANBU member who addressed me, the same who grabbed me earlier. "I'm sorry. I had to know if I'd seen him before. If he'd been following me."

He nodded. "We have to ask you to come with us now." The other member moved toward me and reached for my arm again.

I pulled away. "Come with you where?"

"Leader-sama has asked for you."

It didn't settle my nerves much, but at least he didn't say 'interrogation room'. I grabbed the few bags of clothes and followed my escorts to Pein-sama's tower.


	18. Chapter 18

The ANBU members ushered me inside the elevator and didn't leave until the closing doors had trapped me inside. With a press of a button, the elevator began to rise on command. My arms wrapped more tightly around the bags of clothing, my poor excuse for a shield. The elevator came to a halt and the doors parted like theater curtains, revealing the star of the show, Pein-sama.

He gazed at me calmly. There was no hint of anger, only concern. Nonetheless, my feet remained planted to the floor of the elevator, my eyes downcast until he told me to do otherwise. He led me to the kitchen of all places where he asked me to sit and set a bowl of rice in front of me. I considered it for a while, wondering if it was some sort of game. 'Talk, and you can have food.'

He sat opposite me, arms and legs crossed, but otherwise relaxed. "What happened, Shou?"

I glanced at him, back at the bowl, and quickly sniffed the aroma emanating from the bowl of food. It held no hint of poisons, but I still wondered.

"Shou, eat something. You look like you're about to faint."

The chopsticks were shaking too badly to hold rice, but I made an effort to try anyway just for appearances.

"I was going to prepare some vegetables as well, but an enemy spy just committed suicide in my marketplace, so … you know … duty calls …" he said as he wiped something off the shoulder of the damned cloak.

"I can prepare them, Sir," I offered. "For when you get back."

He nodded. "I need you to tell me what happened first." Those ringed eyes bore into me, searching for the subtle indications of deception. "ANBU arrived on the location only in time to witness his suicide. You were the last person to see him alive."

My mind raced. How much should I confess? How much does he already know? "He was pretending to read some book when he called my name," I started, surreptitiously glancing at him for changes in facial expression, sitting position, a nod, a purse of the lips, anything. "He asked me who the leader was, and I said I didn't know."

"That was all?" he asked with a hint of suspicion.

"Yes, Sir … He asked me three times before running for the door. I think he knew the ANBU were coming." I did say that I didn't know the leader's identity to his first question, and he did ask me that question three times. My brain registered these as truths, and my facial expressions reflected honesty.

He relaxed some. Stood. "I'll be back soon." And left.

The seconds ticked away. Then minutes. The bowl of rice sat abandoned on the table as I bolted for the office area. The mahogany desk. The locked drawer. In my hand, the pins and paperclips moved with manic speed. The lock gave, and the drawer opened.

I fell back onto the dark red leather of the chair, my head propped in my hands as I saw but did not observe. Maybe I didn't want to know. What if he did orchestrate the assassination of the Hokage? Of Lady Tsunade? I still had to spread my legs for him – only I wouldn't be able to pretend anymore that he was a good man. And despite his pretenses, I would know. Would it be easier to not know? Or harder to wonder?

A stack of papers pressed against the right side of the drawer. Pens and a few kunai lay in a haphazard mess across the left side. I memorized the scene before grabbing the stack of papers. More mission reports. Aside from being S-Rank missions, they seemed insignificant at first, and some of them illegible. However, a black streak marred the spot beside "Name:". I searched for the signatures of the shinobi, only to find a single letter in each space. I. H. K. D. Z. Ka. and a drawing of a scorpion.

Seven shinobi in total completing only S-Rank missions. These were the mission reports of the Akatsuki. I skimmed every paper, even the illegible scrawling of H. and K. Some of the words were written in code, but, knowing the general aims of the Akatsuki, I managed to work out the gist of the messages. Most involved finding and capturing jinchuuriki. Some mentioned Naruto. The most recent revolved around the murder of Orochimaru. But none held any indication of spying on or assassinating the Hokage.

I put the papers back in their rightful place and locked the drawer. Other hiding spots and safes could've been lurking in some dark corner of the room. I quickly checked for hidden compartments or false bottoms in the desk, but found none. I searched the rest of the room, focusing on the most likely hiding spots. Nothing.

He had to have had some kind of correspondence with Danzou or Danzou's lackeys in order to successfully orchestrate such a grand scheme. He may have destroyed any physical evidence that would implicate him, however unlikely – the evidence would also implicate Danzou and thus counted as leverage.

But what sort of shinobi didn't have a plethora of hiding places? Secrets behind secrets? One who didn't have a great need for them, such as the leader of Amegakure who lived on the top floor of a fortified tower in the center of a city he controlled. Nonetheless, it is our nature. We don't change our ways simply because it seems safer at the time. Only two possibilities remained: he had used a jutsu to hide the evidence or it was hidden in plain sight – probably encoded like the Akatsuki mission statements, but more elaborate. I turned my attention to the bookshelves that lined the wall. Any one of these books or the mission reports could hold the answer. This would take time, and I had already overstayed my welcome.

I headed for the kitchen, still wondering. The refrigerator opened and bathed the food it held in white light. And a bag sitting alone in the corner, on it the name "Tobi". Tobi, my purchaser. The mysterious man somehow related to Pein-sama. Third possibility: Tobi had the evidence and was responsible for the assassination. I didn't have any reason to believe this other than my desire to believe it. But I didn't rule it out entirely.

I reached for the vegetables–

"What are you doing?"

The voice lacked its usual exuberance, but it undeniably belonged to Tobi. The slight suppression of his voice from the mask gave it away. I shut the refrigerator door and turned to stare at his feet. "Pein-sama asked me to prepare vegetables, Sir."

"Where is Pein-sama?" he asked, cocking his head in what was meant to be that signature "harmless Tobi" gesture, but only looked disturbing.

"He had to deal with a spy," I replied, my back now pressed against the refrigerator.

"What time is he going to be back?"

"I don't know." He closed the space between us. "He said he wouldn't be long, though."

A beat. He stepped away, still staring me down. "You better start cooking, then. Slave." With that he left.

I waited a few moments before dislodging myself from the spot. This marked the second time Tobi had appeared with apparent ill intentions. It wouldn't be long until he succeeded in getting me alone, a prospect which filled me with dread. But his need to get me away from Pein-sama didn't lend any support to the notion that Tobi was calling the shots.

I threw the vegetables onto the stove and rubbed circles into my temples, occasionally stirring and throwing glances at each entry way. Pein-sama returned shortly after the food was ready to eat. Though I knew it shouldn't, his presence made me feel marginally safer.

"You still look a bit shaken," he commented as he grabbed a bowl.

I grabbed my own and sat opposite him. "Tobi-san snuck up on me."

"Did he?" his eyebrows narrowed. "Why?"

His suspicion took me somewhat by surprise. It made sense why he wouldn't trust me. But what reason did he have to suspect Tobi? Past indiscretions? "He wanted to know when you'd be back, Sir."

His lips pursed, but he didn't press the matter. We spent the rest of the meal in silence, after which he grabbed our bowls and dropped them carelessly into the sink. "Come with me," he said, leading me into his office. The lock picking tools weighed heavily in my pocket, and I prayed that everything was in order, that he suspected nothing. But he avoided the desk all together, instead veering toward the bookshelf. I touched nothing there in my earlier meddling, so I relaxed a bit.

He decided upon a few books, which I recognized as a collection of sealing jutsu, and flipped through the pages. "Shou?"

"Sir?"

"Do you remember the hand seals Tobi used for the tracking jutsu?"

Memory of the pain stood fresh in my mind, and then the picture of gloved fingers entwining made its debut. "Snake, ram, monkey, bird, boar."

He flipped the book closed. "Seems simple enough. Let me see your wrist."

I stretched my arm toward him, the black mark facing up. "Sir, I think Tobi-san has the scroll with the release jutsu…"

"I know." His thumb grazed over the mark, and goosebumps rose under his light touches. "He's insisting that he misplaced it, and I'm tired of arguing with him. So I'll have to improvise somehow."

I almost objected, insisted that I could stay put in the tower for the time being so not to inconvenience him. But with Tobi's behavior and his apparent desire to keep me on a short leash, I kept my mouth shut.

He formed the seals. A slight twinge bit at my skin and the black mark faded until my wrist was nothing but pale flesh again.

"Itching? Tenderness?" he asked.

I shook my head. A small sense of freedom filled me, but I hardly counted that as a negative side effect. Though I knew he didn't release me simply for my own pleasure. "Do you need me to go somewhere, Sir?"

"I do. How long have you been out of practice?"

"Practice?"

"In fighting, of any sort."

The last time I had been battling against a fair opponent was last spring in Konoha, fighting Hazel and Danzo's nameless minions. Aside from attacking Osamu, it'd been "Around eight months, Sir."

He looked me over. "I'll take it easy on you, then."

We were fighting? Sparring, rather? "Sir?"

He grabbed my arms and wrapped them around his waist. "After something like this, I find a little training helps clear the mind. I hope that doesn't bother you…"

I shook my head. Honestly, I didn't know if I should be excited or petrified. But it was too late for reflection. The transportation jutsu had already landed us in the middle of a grassy field seated neatly in the middle of rocky hills, a small cabin in the corner of the field.

He stepped back. "Are you ready?"

My body tensed in preparation and I nodded.


	19. Chapter 19

The tranquility of the field shattered after the first punch. I dodged to the left, but his fist nicked my cheek. He pivoted and kicked the back of my leg, sending me to the ground. I rolled away from him and held my arms in front of me to block his kick as I got to my feet.

All right, so I was a bit rusty. To worsen the matter, Osamu's training still had effect. Before my slavery, blocking and dodging came as an automatic response, second nature. Now, after months of learned submission, it had to be forced.

"Ready?" he asked after taking note of my hesitation.

I stretched my arms, trying to loosen my tense muscles, and braced for attack again. He beckoned me forward with a slight movement of his hand. Step, position, throw punch. He grabbed my arm and twisted. My shin caught his shoulder and he released me. I staggered back. Ducked a blow. Threw a right hook. Took a punch to the ribs. Landed a kick to his thigh.

Sixty or so blows later, I was staring at the sky, my back resting comfortably against the padding of the high grass and soft ground. If my lungs weren't burning from lack of oxygen, it might've been somewhat enjoyable. Pein-sama extended his hand to help me up. For all my efforts, the man hadn't even broken a sweat. Sure, I hadn't expected to win by any means. But it would've been nice to know I held my own. At least. Maybe.

Pein-sama grinned as I staggered into his arms. Smugly, amusedly, complacently – I didn't know. But he seemed happy with the match, and that was all that mattered.

He wrapped his arm around my waist and led me into the cabin. The sole room consisted of only a table at which we both sat. The boards that made up the floor groaned under our feet and the table was weak with age. The cabin must've been abandoned years ago. Nonetheless, it was nice to get out of the rain.

"Konan and I come here to train sometimes," Pein-sama explained. He slid closer to me and lifted my shirt to examine the various marks and bruises. He pressed his fingers against my side, on two of my ribs. I jumped in response as a jolt of pain sprung from the area, but he held the pressure. Chakra flowed from his fingertips, and I cherished the warm current before the collar destroyed it. When he released the pressure, I could feel the bruised muscle easing back to normal.

"Thank you, Sir."

"Any other injuries I should attend to?"

I shook my head. I'd be sore in the morning, to say the least, but there weren't any grave injuries that needed attention.

"You did quite well," he said. Perhaps it was childish or naïve, considering the circumstances, but I couldn't stop myself from smiling at the compliment. "Your fighting technique is impressive. Where were you stationed during your time as a shinobi?"

And the smile disappeared. Most Masters didn't think of their slaves as human or deserving of recognition, so neither I nor my captors ever bothered to create a background story for "Shou." Pein-sama, however, didn't think of himself as a master or me as a slave. So what must he know about Shou already? Former ANBU, from the tattoo. Trained to be a slave by Osamu. And what could he have deduced from my fighting style? Even though most shinobi wore the symbol of their allegiance – thus making it unnecessary to memorize their fighting styles – it wasn't hard to see the patterns. I couldn't take any chances.

"Konoha, Sir."

He didn't seem surprised. Or he didn't show it. "What happened?" he asked in an even voice. Non-threatening, non-accusing.

The best lie is the one laced with truth. It becomes harder to detect and easier to remember. Bonus points for being based on verifiable facts. "I was being investigated for stealing documents from the Hokage–"

"Danzo?"

My fist clenched at my side. "No, Sir. Tsunade-sama."

He nodded and waited for me to continue.

"All ANBU members were being investigated, but Danzo said he had evidence to prove I was involved. They put this on me to suppress my chakra–" I pointed to the band of metal wrapped around my neck. "–and threw me in prison while they continued the investigation."

"If my sources were correct, the prison was destroyed."

I nodded. "There was a fire. A lot of us escaped. But, having nowhere to go and no access to our chakra, some of the stronger prisoners sold some of us as slaves or to bounty." It wasn't until after my confession that I noticed my shoulders had slumped and my gaze had dropped. "Now that I think about it, Danzo must have orchestrated the entire thing to get any shinobi who would oppose him out of the village."

"So you know about Danzo's coup?"

I nodded. "I overheard the guards talking about it while I was being held at the trading station."

He sighed. "At least that's one thing I don't have to break to you."

There was more to be broken? My gaze shifted to him, eyes a bit wider than normal. "… What else?"

He grimaced, eyeing me warily. "We plan on overthrowing Danzo as Hokage."

My heart dropped. "You're going to war with Konoha?"

"No," he said firmly. "I'm trying to avoid war if at all possible."

"And this is only against Danzo?"

"He and his little army. We have no grudges against Konoha or its people. But Danzo would seek to destroy us if he had the opportunity. The spy from earlier today was likely one of Danzo's, so …"

"He's looking for an opportunity."

He nodded. "We're looking into it."

He kept using 'we' in a way that was bothering me a little. Was he referring to Ame's army? Or the Akatsuki? "What does Danzo have against Ame?"

He looked away from me. "It isn't Ame he's after, per se…"

Akatsuki, then. But he made no indication of wanting to reveal that to me, so I didn't press the matter.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier. It didn't occur to me that you were a Konoha nin until we began training."

His eyes were gazing into mine again, and the gray rings held nothing but sincerity and regret. "Don't be. Danzo is a traitor. I want him dead just as much as you– … Sir." My gaze returned to the table.

He placed a hand on my shoulder. "I understand your anger. But I'm only trying to protect my people. I can't promise you vengeance … And I wouldn't even if I could."

I nodded, searching for the appropriate response, but finding no words at all. True, I wanted Danzo's blood to taint my hands, but was it out of vengeance? I couldn't tell. Maybe that was dangerous. Maybe I didn't care.

"As much as enjoy the quiet, it's getting late," he said, holding out his arm for me. I scooted toward him. He wrapped his arm around me, flew through a few hand seals, and we were back in the tower.

The Tower. From the escape of the field, this building seemed so suffocating for reasons I couldn't properly explain. I dismissed it as a consequence of Osamu's training, which I was frantically trying to fight, and tried to see the bizarre skyscraper as more welcoming. Familiar.

"If you could get the bed ready, I'm going to get some water and your clothes from the kitchen," he said, heading for the door.

"Wait, Sir, please," I stammered and grabbed his arm. "I could get those for you."

He smirked, probably noting some suspicion I hadn't intended. "… Sure." He walked back toward the bed. In retrospect, I probably should've worded it differently, and that might've prevented the events that ensued shortly after.

To avoid any further mishaps, I quickly made my way through the halls, down the stairs, and to the kitchen. Objective: Retrieve the bags of clothing I'd forgotten by the table and two glasses of water from the refrigerator. Return to bedroom. Obstacle: Tobi. The masked man sat at the kitchen table. His hands rested on his lap. His legs were crossed. He was staring at me, as if he knew I was coming.

I quickly lowered my head in humble submission. Tobi still considered me a slave, and it was probably in my best interest to keep up the pretenses while Pein-sama wasn't around. He watched me as I reached for the bags, and I tried my best to ignore him.

No such luck. "Where were you?" he asked, sounding defensive.

"Sir, Pein-sama asked me to help him train." I held my bags tightly to my chest, again using it as a shield.

"So you were with Pein?" He stood.

I nodded and backed away.

He stepped closer. His gaze drifted down my body. "What was he doing with you?"

A shiver ran along my spine. I swore I could've seen a glimmer of twisted satisfaction in his eye, the only visible part of his face. "N-"

"Shou?" Konan's voice cut through the tension and Tobi backed away from me immediately.

"Hello, Konan-san!" Tobi said, returning with ease to his exuberant personality which involved talking much too loudly. "I was just asking Shou where he and Pein-sama went."

"Leave him alone," she retorted as she shot him a scornful look.

"Okay, Konan-chan!" Tobi chirped, seemingly unphased. He turned and left, the usual bounce back in his step.

Konan watched the door for a moment before pulling some papers from her cloak. "Could you give these to Pein when you see him?" she handed them to me, and I placed them in one of my bags. "Tell him it's only the report on the spy earlier. Nothing we didn't know already."

"I'll tell him, Ma'am."

"No, no. None of that. I'm Konan. Not 'ma'am'."

"I'll tell him, Konan-san."

A small smile graced her face. "I'll see you around, Shou-san."

After Konan left, I quickly filled two glasses of water and made my way back to Pein-sama's bedroom. The sheets had already been thrown back and a heap of black clothes lay in a strewn mess on the ground. _Excellent_. A naked leader of a criminal organization was walking around somewhere. Lurking. Stalking his next conquest. I glanced over my shoulder before making way to the bathroom, meanwhile ignoring the stirring in my cock.

"Shou," Pein-sama said around a tooth brush. A towel hung loosely around his waist. The deep red of the towel contrasted against his alabaster skin in a way that–

_Stop it_. "Yes, Sir?"

He spit and rinsed his tooth brush. "You're still dressed. I'm slightly disappointed."

_Flirting? Great_. Not that I was especially adept at flirting before, but considering my current situation and … Pein-sama, the only thing I managed was nibbling on my lip and hoping he didn't notice that my face was on fire.

"Still nervous?" He tried to hide his disappointment with a lighthearted smile.

I shook my head. Never one to disappoint. "I was just … you … um … Konan asked me to give you a report."

Pein-sama took my bags. As he did, he leaned in to whisper, "Hurry up," and left me to the privacy of the bathroom.

I dropped my borrowed clothes and left them in a basket before jumping in the shower to wash the post-training grime off me. He'd left no towel, maybe intentionally. I didn't bother looking for one and just shook myself dry. It didn't work as well as I'd hoped – water droplets still rolled down my body. With a sigh, I ventured back to the bedroom.

The bright orange binding of the book, complete with two lovers running across its front and the title _Icha Icha Paradise_ sitting at the top, was propped open in Pein-sama's hands. He sat casually, back against the headboard, legs stretched along the blankets and crossed at the ankles. He turned the page.

"That isn't mine! I just grabbed it when the spy was there to pretend like I was busy and maybe he'd leave me alone. I didn't know what it was. I grabbed it by mistake. I thought it was … something else …" Not able to decide on an excuse, I used them all. If one excuse was believable, five must be undeniable. Right?

He merely beckoned me toward the bed without even taking his attention from the book. So I came closer and sat on the edge of the bed. He handed the book to me and pointed to a line. I skimmed the page, quickly recognizing the scene. Of course I recognized it. I'd only read it seven times. This was the oh so climactic ending in which the main character ma–

Pein-sama pulled me closer. "Aloud."

Oh. Aloud. I looked at him in surprise and saw a devilish grin that told me exactly where this was going. My throat constricted for a few seconds before I forced it to cooperate. "Um … He, um … 'He sits behind her. Her chest presses against his back as she leans against him in wanton ecstasy …'"

As I was reading, Pein-sama weaved his arm around me and pulled me between his legs, my back against his chest. His heart beat against my back and I could feel his cock hardening against my backside. This detail wasn't mentioned in the book. I arched back as the character in the book did. Because it was my role, or because I wanted to. I couldn't tell. But I liked it.

"Keep reading." His mouth grazed my ear as he said it.

"'He reaches around and gently touches her pussy which is already wet, warm, and inviting.'" Her. I'm not a "her" nor do I have a wet, warm, and inviting–

His hand, covered in oils, wrapped around my cock and began to move. Slowly at first, in a rhythmic motion that made my hips rock. _All right. This will work._

"'His mouth finds the soft flesh of her neck. He massages and teases her with his tongue and lips.'"

Pein-sama placed a kiss on my shoulder, trailing up the side of my neck before his teeth pulled gently on my ear. As he did, his hand pumped faster. The pressure built until I was grabbing his thighs for support. Sweating and panting.

He stopped. His hold tightened on the base of my penis. I gasped and writhed in frustration, trying to rock my hips forward, but he held me still. "Keep reading." I didn't need to see the smirk. I could hear the amusement in his voice.

The book lay on the bed. Closed and half-forgotten. I scrambled for it and quickly skimmed for the passage. "'His mouth– Uh… He holds her hour-glass waist to steady her as she … Uh …" Oh shit.

"As she what?" I could already feel his free hand weaseling between us and rubbing his cock with oils. He knew 'what'. _He is a sadist_.

"As she … lowers herself onto his waiting, fully erect … penis."

He placed his hands just above my hips. Hesitantly, I pushed myself up and repositioned my legs so I was straddling his lap. With less preparation than before, it stung a bit more. But as aroused as I was at the time, I didn't care. His steady grip guided me onto him until we fell into a rhythm. He reached around me again and wrapped his hand around my cock, stroking in rhythm with his thrusts.

I dropped the book again so I could steady myself, pushing against his thrusts. As the pressure built, my movements became more erratic. My limbs trembled as I tried to hold myself up and lower myself and repeat. He grabbed my hips and pulled me down. I was filled. Impaled. My back arched against his chest. And then sweet release. My whole body relaxed with the sudden pleasure, the evidence of which now covered my chest. Thankfully, Pein-sama finished not long after. I didn't think I had much more energy left. His breath hitched. His grip tightened. And he reached his own climactic end, filling me further.

We stayed like that for a few moments. In my case, too tired to move. Eventually, he helped me up, and I collapsed onto the mattress. Face first. Gracefully.

"Still nervous?" he asked, that post-coital glow about him.

I shook my head. "There's a good scene in chapter nine. That we could … um …"

He smiled. "Next time."


	20. Chapter 20

Before you even begin this chapter, I want to apologize for it. That torture warning applies here. Oh, dear Jashin, does it apply. I'm a terrible person...

* * *

><p>A month passed. Training became a routine, and I quickly regained my muscular physique. My eyes no longer looked sunken, and my silver mess of hair became shaggy and unkempt once again. I looked and felt better than I had in a year. More importantly, fighting came to me naturally again and I was finally able to get the upper hand on Pein-sama, at least in hand-to-hand combat.<p>

But as I looked into the mirror, the man staring back looked far too much like Hatake Kakashi. The only things missing were the mask and red eye. And maybe the cool air of indifference that had more or less been beaten out of me during my slavery, but even that was coming back.

Pein-sama hadn't so much as mentioned the similarities. Then again, it wasn't uncommon for shinobi trained in counterintelligence to allow a spy to burrow into the trenches of their organization. It is still one of the easiest and most effective ways to discover the objectives of a spy, however risky.

The scissors in my hand tapped against the sink. He never said it outright, but he loved my hair. I could tell by the way his fingers weaved through it and how he buried his face in it. And maybe he already knew, and it wouldn't matter how I tried to disguise myself. But, if he didn't … I grabbed a handful of silver locks and brought the scissors toward it–

"Put the scissors down."

Gray eyes and fiery hair appeared as a reflection in the mirror. At the sight, I spun on my heel to face him and the scissors clattered to my foot. My jaw clenched to hold back the yell as my leg jerked. "'Morning, Pein-sama," I said through my teeth, my lips pulling into a smile.

"I didn't mean stab yourself." He lifted me onto the counter and grabbed a towel to wrap around my now bleeding foot.

"I'm sorry. I have masochistic tendencies." I bit my lip as he put pressure on the wound.

"Hm. I suppose I can't complain about that."

I didn't know what it was about the man, but he put me at ease. He hadn't even gotten the towel secured around my foot before my lips met his, warm and inviting. His hand weaved through my still shaggy hair and he pulled me in to deepen the kiss. A stir resonated in my pants as I wrapped my legs around his waist–

He pulled away. "I'm leaving for a week."

"You're what?" I asked as that stirring moved from my groin to the pit of my stomach.

"I have to see some of my colleagues. I'll be away for a week, two at most."

I nibbled on my lip, orange swirls invading my thoughts. "When are you leaving?"

A beat. "Now. I would've told you sooner, but I just found out about … this."

"Could I come with? I could help … I don't know, carry things?"

He shook his head. "Not yet. Your taijutsu is excellent, but, without access to your chakra, you may not be able to fend off an attacker should something happen."

Was that the whole truth or simply an excuse to keep me away from his dealings with the Akatsuki? Likely both. Any mission with the Akatsuki is bound to be dangerous, and I would just be dead weight. I leaned into him, my forehead resting on his shoulder. "So it'll just be me and Tobi?"

He smiled. "Just you. We'll be back before Tobi returns." He unwrapped my legs from around his waist and left me sitting on the sink in the bathroom with a bleeding foot. Alone. So wonderfully alone.

For the first three days, boredom seeped over me until my brain clawed restlessly at the inside of my skull. _Icha Icha _can only be read so many times, especially when the reader has acted out the best sex scenes it has to offer. Pein-sama gave me free liberty to explore Ame, but the possibility of running into Hazel's spies kept me locked safely in the tower. It wasn't long after that I found myself snooping through his files again.

I'd given up on finding evidence to implicate Pein-sama in the assassination of the Hokage. But that didn't mean the documents didn't hold potentially valuable information. If the Akatsuki still had an interest in the Kyuubi, there might be something on Naruto's whereabouts. He'd been mentioned in reports before, but those were dated before Danzo's coup. Of course, if there was something, it meant Naruto was in danger of the Akatsuki. But it was all I had.

In the perfectly artistic scrawling of one Uchiha Itachi, Naruto's name leapt off the page. Itachi spotted him on the border between the Land of Fire and Grass country a few weeks ago. If memory serves, Orochimaru had a hideout in that area and Naruto could be looking for Sasuke instead of evading potential assassins. Skimming the report, Itachi mentioned that Jiraiya-sama, four unnamed jounin, and several unnamed chuunin were among the group, which is likely why the Akatsuki haven't made a move. I pushed away the desire to know which of my friends and students survived and simply allowed the wave of relief to wash over me. With a sigh, I lowered the report–

A gloved hand snatched it from my hands. "What's this?" Tobi asked, barely maintaining his cheerful façade. "So were you always a spy, or were you just using this opportunity to snoop?"

My heart raced and I pressed further back into the seat, eyes locked on orange swirls. "I … I just wanted to help. I thought … if I knew what was going on … I could–"

In one swift motion, he grabbed me by the throat and hauled me over the desk and onto my knees on the ground. I took a moment to catch my breath before taking hold of his wrist with one hand and hyperflexing his elbow with the other. He released me. I fled, only to have him catch my foot under his own. I hit the ground, my arms braced for the fall. He grabbed my shoulder from behind, his fingers digging into the pressure points. By the time I thought to reach for his arm, I had already passed out.

When I awoke, my joints and muscles ached in complaint of being spread against the foot of the bed, arms tied to each post, naked on my knees with my feet tied together. Drool slid around the plastic ball in my mouth as I tried, in vain, to push it out with my tongue. The leather strap was too tight, and all I managed was to make my jaw even sorer than it was before.

Various shades of gray plagued Tobi's room, or what I could see of it. Payne's gray covered the floor, slate – the walls, and true gray bed dressings lay atop a black bed frame. I imagined Hell being more cheerful than this room. This bleak room was what lay behind Tobi's façade. Despair. Depression. Maybe I could've used it to my advantage, if only this damn ball gag wasn't in my mouth.

A door behind me opened and closed. Someone, who I presumed to be Tobi, walked in and began looking for something. I could only hear things being dropped or moved. No, not true. A whimper came from the corner of the room. Muffled sobs, probably belonging to Slave 2, who I had presumed to be dead. And then a whoosh, a cutting of air, the cause of the poor slave's cries – the sound of the Master twirling his whip so tauntingly.

My body tensed on its own and my eyes closed. The body is a beautiful thing. Resilient. And it knows how to protect itself if need be. So I simply let my mind wander. And waited. And waited …

"I bet you remember every one of these," Tobi casually commented as he ran his gloved hand along the raised, red scars that decorated my back. "How they felt. What you did to deserve them." I pressed further into the bed frame as my mind battled against his words. No stories of each scar came to mind. Haru did. His scars. Their stories. "Does it keep you up at night?"

He backed away. The whip made another whoosh through the air, but this time, searing pain followed. With each lash, my body convulsed. Beads of sweat rolled down my forehead and torso. Blood rolled down my back. Yet my mind was elsewhere. Nowhere. Gone. After thirty or so, as I sat on the brink of unconsciousness, he stopped.

"Let's try something new," he said in the too jovial tone that brought to mind images of my hands crushing his windpipe. I heard metal rattling against metal. After Slave 2 let a sob escape, I reasoned that Tobi must've been unlocking a cage, or something. At least Osamu allowed me a room. Perhaps he could take a lesson in sadism from the fuck in the swirly orange mask.

"Put this in him," said Tobi.

"Yes, Master," said his slave. I could hear the hesitation in Slave 2's steps as he came closer. He rested his hand carefully on my shoulder and whisper, "I'm sorry." A whoosh, a crack, and Slave 2's hand clawed into my collar bone. After he stopped whimpering, I nodded to reassure him. There was no reason we both needed to suffer.

The hard plastic pressed against my entrance. I jerked away from it at first, but forced myself to relax. Even without any preparation, it started out easily enough. As he pushed, though, the thing grew wider. After a while, the damn thing was tearing me open. Something thick and warm made the intruding object slide a little more easily, but I had a feeling it wasn't lubricant. Suddenly, the widest part had passed, and my damaged entrance closed around the narrow part of the object, keeping it seated inside me.

"Let's see him want you now," Tobi said with a laugh. He twirled the whip a bit before bringing it down on my back again and again. The object gave me an added bonus of stabbing pain every time my body tensed. Unconsciousness might find me quicker this time.

No such luck. Tobi dropped the whip and grabbed a fistful of my hair. He twisted my head so I was looking up at him. "Having fun?"

I blinked. Once.

"I know even _you _have your limits. Your last master broke you. I could see it in that lifeless expression. And I'm going to find out how he did it."

I rolled my eyes.

He released my head and backed away. I had expected a tantrum that would've led to sweet unconsciousness. Instead, he began removing my bindings – all but the ball gag. It wasn't uncommon for interrogators to put captured spies through a few hours of torture before beginning with the questions. But, at that point, I had no doubt that this was anything but pure sadism. Why me, though? If he wanted to torture me so badly, why not just buy me as well instead of giving me to Pein?

Once he had finished with the bindings, I slid across the bedframe and hit the ground where Slave 2 worked the object out of me. It hurt, but not as badly as going in. Tobi pulled me to my feet and forced me over to the other side of the room. A false wall had been pulled away to reveal a box, stood upright and built into the wall. Metal cuffs had been fastened to it, positioned for wrists, ankles, and neck.

_No_.

I dropped to my knees. The fear rose like ice rushing through me. I stumbled back, scurrying, not taking my eyes off the coffin. Bile rose, and the meager contents of my stomach found its way to the floor. Tobi grabbed my arm and all but threw me against the back of the coffin. Though it had no effect, I clawed wildly at his arms, his mask, whatever.

_No no no no_ _no._

"This? Really? You succumbed to _this_? A little alone time to make you remember how horrible of a person you are? How many people you failed to _protect_?" He pressed his whole body against mine, holding me firmly. The rough cloth of his clothing rubbed against my bare skin. "Let's say I'm in a good mood. What would you do for me if I decided to let you out of this cage?" His hand drifted down to grope my swollen and bleeding ass. "Would you suck my cock? Would you moan like a bitch in heat as I fucked you?"

I nodded feverishly, without thought. Through the haze of panic and desperation, I couldn't think. I couldn't even breathe. I had to get out _now_.

"Too bad." He secured the cuffs and closed the box. Not a sliver of light seeped through. And in the darkness, all I could hear was the pounding of my heart and screaming muffled by the ball gag. The only thing that kept me from sobbing was the knowledge that, if my nose started running, I'd suffocate.

Periodically, I'd pass out. My head would lull forward, causing the metal binding fastened around my neck to cut airflow, and I'd jerk awake in a fit of terror. Repeat ad nauseam.

"_Are you ready to come out?"_

_ I swallowed. "Yes, Master."_

_ "Are you going to be a good slave?"_

_ "Yes, Master." _Let me out.

_ "Are you going to obey me?"_

_ "Yes, Master."_

I awoke in a forest, my back pressed against a tree. My fingers gripped its bark. The clouds above raced across the sky despite there being no wind, staining the sky in a greenish hue. As my gaze drifted downward, I saw myself. Hatake Kakashi. Only this version was younger, and I immediately recognized him as the voice – that part of my mind that had disowned me. He stood a meter away, dressed in ANBU gear, with the porcelain mask pulled to the side. The haughty, headstrong look was bright in his eyes.

_You know who he is_.

"Who?"

He ran his finger down the scar on his left eye.

It had been too long. My feet didn't ache; they throbbed from standing for so long. My neck had become tender and likely bruised from the strip of metal. And bugs infested the small space. I felt them crawling on my back, picking at the wounds. I pushed my back against the wood until the pain became too great to bear. But they never died. They just kept eating. And picking. _Why does my head feel like it's on fire?_

I was going to die. My head lulled against the metal bar one last time and I couldn't lift it back. No air came. I was too tired to care …

The door and the bindings pulled away in one violent motion. Bright white light flooded my vision, though I was able to make out the fiery orange hair and black of the cloak. I tried to walk to him, but only managed to fall forward, arm outstretched toward his feet. He reached down and removed the ball from my mouth.

"He's a spy!" The voice sounded as if it was coming from under water, but I could still make out most of it.

"Then you let me handle him." Pein-sama, without a doubt. The calm, yet dangerous tone gave it away.

"And jeopardize the Akatsuki's entire operation? Abandon our goals to die for a _slave?_"

"You could've detained him."

"This man is incredibly dangerous–"

"So you already know his identity?"

"Of course I do." A fist grabbed me by the hair and lifted. Gloved hands wrapped around the lower part of my face. "He's the Copy Nin. Hatake Kakashi."

That cut through the haze and fear set in again like a cold wave. I searched Pein-sama's expression, but his face was still a blur. The hand clasped around my mouth until I was gasping for breath, but I was too weak to fight. The orange blur faded into black.

* * *

><p>NothereNorthere asked: "CAN"T GET ENOUGH! but what happened to kakashi's sharingan?"<p>

Even though Kakashi can't control whether his Sharingan is active or not, it's still powered by his chakra. I figured that Tsunade's chakra-suppressing collar would absorb enough chakra to force the Sharingan to become inactive, thus making his eye black again. I don't know if this is true to cannon or if it's ever been explained in cannon, but that's what I went with, haha. I'm sorry I didn't make that clearer in the beginning. And thanks for pointing it out.

I'm also sorry if I ruined the "goofy Tobi" character for anyone. I was going off Obito's sadistic tendencies and anger at Kakashi for Rin's death. I might've gotten a little carried away...


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